Posted by
Erundur Anwamehtar on June 4th, 2003, at 3:49am
Director’s Cut
A Poem by Erundur Anwamehtar
06/04/2003
I rented “Saturday” from the video store.
It cost a picnic and a few hours of time.
I sent it back to The Past when finished,
but I kept analyzing every facet of plot,
the lines spoken by each character,
and analyzing every angle of development.
Then a phone-call to a friend explained
the outcome. I couldn’t blame
myself for not seeing the ending,
but it’s good to know despite temporal
distaste.
Disappointment is a scratched frame,
the joy to come an endless reel,
regardless of how I feel
now.
We are fortunate the Director
is still
directing.
Categories: Poetry
Posted by
Erundur Anwamehtar on April 18th, 2003, at 1:20am
I Am Not
A Poem by Erundur Anwamehtar
04/18/2003
I am,
not I was
or I will be.
I am
not who I was
or who I will be.
I am
not doing what I was
or doing what I will be.
I am
not when I was
or when I will be.
I am
not where I was
or where I will be.
I am
not why I was
or why I will be.
I am
not constant
or ever will be.
Categories: Poetry
Posted by
Erundur Anwamehtar on April 11th, 2003, at 7:24am
Amarillo
A Poem by Erundur
for Jenny M… an awesome woman and respected friend
3/26/2003
New beauty nuanced in youth
needs recognition
lest age dull its colorful hue.
A flower, bright and healthy,
alive on the edge
of a forest stands tall
in my sight;
not because she’s backlit
or in a spotlight.
Her roots touch water
and she grows in the Sun,
and she’s fun
like super-soakers
on a warm noon
after yesterday’s snowballs.
Dewed pedals coruscate
when she waltzes in the wind,
and it’s doubtful she’ll stop
singing her melodious songs
at any era in her life, but
crescendo!
and in eternity she’ll reach
the note she’s longed for
all her life.
Categories: Poetry
Tags: Jenny
Posted by
Erundur Anwamehtar on February 13th, 2003, at 1:09am
Journey
A Poem by Erundur Anwamehtar
2/13/03
To look at the past brings pain,
even without salt in my eyes.
Such seasoning is that of kings,
and I, a mere knight,
cannot afford to linger.
I have learned to gallop
and I’ve begun to travel beyond
origin�s realm and into unknown
kingdoms.
Vast changes dwell here,
and I learn
to live
despite myself.
Four days ago I entered
a forest
called “Accommodo”
after leaving a castle where I dwelt
too long.
I am questing,
seeking to complete
the journey
to the conclusion.
“Specula,” I say.
My horse softly nuzzles its nose
into my hands and finds oats.
Minutes later, we continue.
Categories: Poetry
Posted by
Erundur Anwamehtar on December 22nd, 2002, at 9:19am
Inanimate Point of Viewing
A Poem by Erundur Anwamehtar
Written on 9/22/2002
Hope is the anticipation of things
desired and perceived
as attainable.
Apparently, I’m lacking
desire and perception.
Formerly,
I wished
upon the moon
and watched her remain
planted in the sky, constantly
orbiting, but out of reach.
Now,
a brief, atmospheric flame glistens
on the horizon,
bolder than a saucerful of habanero juices
while it insinuates demise of the way
I assumed the outlook
would be.
When the sun rises again,
my worldview ascends anew
tanned and slightly more
realistic.
Perhaps a little pessimism
goes to far
if it taints everything I touch
with sweaty, coffee stains and
dissolves
hope like a tooth
in Mountain Dew.
Next time you see me,
I’ll be watching cloud-
shaped puddles full of bright
ambitions and deciding what will fit
best into a holey container.
Don’t look
look up
Categories: Poetry
