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    Project End of Days: Selected Poems
    Project End of Days: Selected Poems
    Project End of Days: Selected Poems
    Ebook207 pages37 minutes

    Project End of Days: Selected Poems

    By T. Byron Kelly

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    About this ebook

    I find connectedness through various forms (poetry, painting, music) by insisting on spontaneity. An image that I paint could very well become a chorus in a song. Paying close attention to my dreams and the soft voices inside my imagination, and allowing these to shape within my being's center (an emanation of my heart), this is the affirmation of the symbolic through faith. An invisible loving which manifests itself through patience and is never controlled- the hidden becoming known. My work will always seek an affirmation or communion while creating a liberation of the ordinary. A visionary poetic journey of almost twenty years, Project End Of Days is a celebration of "heartsongs" that will inspire.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisheriUniverse
    Release dateOct 25, 2005
    ISBN9780595816767
    Project End of Days: Selected Poems
    Author

    T. Byron Kelly

    Poet, Painter and Musician T. Byron Kelly has been working as an active performance artist in the South Western Virginia area (Appalachia) for over two decades and has generations of family from West Virginia, Kentucky and Virginia. He holds both a Bachelors degree from Virginia Tech and a Masters degree from Radford University in English. Byron has also taught English on the college level (Virginia Tech, Radford University, New River College) and lives in the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia. Please visit his current websites @ Poetry@ http://tbyronk.livejournal.com Painting @ http://t-byron-k.pixels.com Music @http://soundcloud.com/ghost-house-studio

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      Book preview

      Project End of Days - T. Byron Kelly

      Copyright © 2005 by T.Byron Kelly

      All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any

      means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording,

      taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written

      permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in

      critical articles and reviews.

      iUniverse books may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting:

      iUniverse

      2021 Pine Lake Road, Suite 100

      Lincoln, NE 68512

      www.iuniverse.com

      1-800-Authors (1-800-288-4677)

      ISBN-13: 978-0-595-37280-5 (pbk)

      ISBN-13: 978-0-595-81676-7 (ebk)

      ISBN-10: 0-595-37280-5 (pbk)

      ISBN-10: 0-595-81676-2 (ebk)

      Contents

      SeNotebook Poems—10/1/1987–1992

      Faith Of Heart—Spring 1993–Winter 1993

      Poems of the Infinite Dream—Winter 1993–Summer 1994

      Midnight Poems—Spring 1994–Winter 1995

      Wish List—Winter 1995–Autumn 1995

      The River Of Swans—Winter 1995–Autumn 1996

      Advent (Alpha)—Winter 1996–Autumn 1997

      Advent (Omega) Passover 1998–New Years Eve 2000

      An Early Autumn Poem: The Beginning Of The End—10/31/2001–8/28/2004

      An Early Autumn Poem: Light &Shadow—12/7/2004–Present

      Selections from Notebook Poems

      10/1/1987-1992

      "Hawthorne’s Butterfly

      The Slow tide of dreams,

      I watch them develop constantly,

      from distorted and fog filled photos

      into crisp transformations of Light,

      my mental darkroom and it’s

      secret chemicals constantly

      developing strange images,

      captured in a blink of my 35mm iris

      I have seen Hawthorne’s butterfly,

      gently drifting, lingering a thousand lives

      in my mind’s eye

      Our dreams are not so different,

      mental one way radios,

      the link with the Lord of creation

      Oh how softly he speaks at dawn,

      sending His unseen signals

      through the desperate and dying universe.

      *This poem is probably almost 20 years old at this point. I remember giving out

      large amounts of my poetry back in the 80’s, much of it anonymously…

      The soft flow of your voice

      Quells my deepest desires—

      The gentle tide of your glances

      The Summer’s dream realized

      …

      In general, the game

      Is a simple assertion

      of self over society—

      All games posses death

      …

      Seasons and emotion

      A constant shift of patterns

      Birth and rebirth

      The constant river of blood everywhere

      Undergraduate Creative Writing Journal

      November 1989

      Tonight the rain sounds like

      tiny spiders and the gentle

      fray of conscious thought into darkness

      as I know this will end/

      torn fragments of illusion as hands

      reach to pray or rejoin something forsaken

      and long ago in the arctic ocean depth of our

      heart’s strongest surge this Grace.

      This apocalypse seems small now

      in destruction an invention

      inverted jelly fish mantra spinning upon

      a differing gyre.

      The lily is hope in the poet’s or martyr’s eye,

      who before has spoken of hope?

      The allure of warm hands in a desperate hour

      and an evening’s softening call

      all for the union of illusion through time

      toward the fear of no see.

      Summer 1992

      revised July 2005

      And when the child had risen through manic time,

      the wildest rose, red upon the dying vine

      finally falling homeward bound into the sanctity

      of mother ground, her hands were all around me now…

      clear my head again-this light has known this farthing

      of my regal demands and His coming again

      w/in the halo of rainbow I can see everything

      Cloud etched sky white driven

      past the cleansing lines behind my

      aurora eyes, and if we saw the thing

      at 5 hrs. old, if we asked are you with us

      only to be torn to the silence of a placid field

      where the Summer Sun smoothes tombstones of the young

      backward mind dance as insects glance the giver

      I am rolling, lifting

      obedient

      are you with me?

      Summer 1992

      I

      don’t need

      to compete

      w/any of

      you

      laurel

      garnished

      fools

      It

      began

      in

      your

      minds

      also

      Technocratic Acrobatics

      let’s win more wars!

      In 1986 over 900 billion dollars was

      spent on defense in the world

      (1.4 million dollars a minute)

      Jet craft to the third world

      No food over there.

      Better eat my

      Almonds

      how can you attempt

      any limits?

      the

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