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Old 10-17-2008, 02:19 AM
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El Supremo El Supremo is offline
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Default Vheissu, a poem.

I know this is obviously inspired by Thrice's Vheissu album, but I am probably the only person who took the time to figure out what Vheissu meant. Vheissu is not actually a word...in any language, anywhere on this earth. It is the letter V in a book Dustin Kensrue read, and is also very old "slang" (in German) for "Who are you" but not in common formal sense, in a metaphorical sense.

This poem is inspired by the feel, not the lyrics of the song on Thrices album Vheissu, "Atlantic". It has a very deep, dark, watery, sort of mystery feel to it, and i can't find a better way to describe the Atlantic ocean. That means a lot given i've lived next to it for all my life.
The Song "Atlantic" on youtube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GAXNiPNBlFA

As you may know already, i love the Atlantic, every part of it. I love the Ocean breeze it produces, i call that the Wilmington Island smell. And you can usually smell it even in Statesboro usually in the winter, when the breeze is cold and frequent, and the sky is deep blue. It sends shivers through my heart, and leaves a nostalgic essence in my body, I wish immidiately for my youth when i lived with my mother and step father, when everything was fine, and when it was wrong, I was too young to see it. It brings me back.

Here is my poem, "Vheissu", a tribute to the community i grew up in.

I've never felt so alone in a crowd
that gentle arrow has struck a heart string
and my eyes are closed
but i dont need them to see
the salty-sweet air
of the Atlantic breeze.

It has made me a man,
and i'll never know an element so powerfull
as air and water mixed
after peace through all these years
a tempest of emotion develops
but one gentle breeze, can bring me to tears.

Within it, all that is good lies
figure it must be the essence of a deity
my God is the God of the breeze i breathe
the essence of all good in everything
and that good died, for me
that my naivete died, saved me.

I've never known such a truth
as the cold water freezes me to my bones
and i feel the power of that tempest
stir a motion from within.
The ocean breeze i love so will be my death,
and this is the end.

-Written by: El Supremo (not the coffee) October 17 2008.
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Last edited by El Supremo; 10-17-2008 at 11:43 PM.
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Old 10-17-2008, 10:32 PM
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I like it, not sure I understand completely (I'm not much of a poetic guy), but definitely like it. For me, anyone who can right poetry and express their emotion and thought through a creative process such as poetry is someone to be respected. My brain does not work in that fashion, and I commend those who are creative in this way.
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Old 10-18-2008, 12:43 AM
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El Supremo El Supremo is offline
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Default

Quote:
Originally Posted by TruBlu View Post
I like it, not sure I understand completely (I'm not much of a poetic guy), but definitely like it. For me, anyone who can right poetry and express their emotion and thought through a creative process such as poetry is someone to be respected. My brain does not work in that fashion, and I commend those who are creative in this way.
My AP fashion brain is demanding I analyze this for you. For everyone's entertainment, I (the poet) am going to explain this to ya'all.

Quote:
I've never felt so alone in a crowd
that gentle arrow has struck a heart string
and my eyes are closed
but i dont need them to see
the salty-sweet air
of the Atlantic breeze.

It has made me a man,
and i'll never know an element so powerfull
as air and water mixed
after peace through all these years
a tempest of emotion develops
but one gentle breeze, can bring me to tears.

Within it, all that is good lies
figure it must be the essence of a deity
my God is the God of the breeze i breathe
the essence of all good in everything
and that good died, for me
that my naivete died, saved me.

I've never known such a truth
as the cold water freezes me to my bones
and i feel the power of that tempest
stir a motion from within.
The ocean breeze i love so will be my death,
and this is the end.
The poem is how i relate to my childhood through the breeze I smell on certain days in the year in Statesboro, Georgia. Nostalgic is a word i used to describe how i feel, But in reality the feeling is insatiable. It cannot be actually described.

A whole stanza is dedicated to what i believe in. My God is the God of the breeze...The Good in everything...and that good died...for me (roughly), is an intimation at the belief in Christianity. Christians hold Jesus Christ in high regard as the only naturally good/pure to ever exist on this earth. My experience with sacrificial salvation is that my God (Jesus Christ) moved through the Ocean Breeze I used to smell in the morning as a child, even though the poem is written about how i experience the breeze as an adolescent now. After I moved away, I lost that child-like purity that we all experience in our youth, it died.

Most philosophers agree, that a man cannot grow up and be entirely pure, or naive as the poem suggests. And for me, that's becasue i moved away that part of my childhood died, and it saved me because of it.

In reality I relate the purity/naivetee of childhood to the ocean breeze as I used to smell every morning, as a modern form of Christ's personal sacrifice for me. Another hidden scheme in the poem is a hint that I will return the favor sometime; that Christ paid me. I plan on joining the military, and the possibility of dying, will be not nearly as large as a deed as Jesus did for me, but I can do through it what i believe he would want me to. Even if I die at old age, or of non combatant causes, putting time in is still a sacrifice for anyone.

However, the poem does not have to just describe me. Anyone can read that poem and relate to it, and interpret it for their own doing as well. I have only revealed the motive behind my writing it. After all a poem is just a compiliation of adjectives and subjects.
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2nd Squad
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Last edited by El Supremo; 10-18-2008 at 04:43 PM. Reason: Fixed BB Code...hope this is right.
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Old 10-18-2008, 04:53 PM
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Drill for life Drill for life is offline
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Duh, I don't know what to say except El Supremo man you sure must have Carpal Tunnell now.
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Old 10-18-2008, 04:59 PM
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TruBlu TruBlu is offline
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Quote:
Originally Posted by El Supremo View Post
My AP fashion brain is demanding I analyze this for you. For everyone's entertainment, I (the poet) am going to explain this to ya'all.



The poem is how i relate to my childhood through the breeze I smell on certain days in the year in Statesboro, Georgia. Nostalgic is a word i used to describe how i feel, But in reality the feeling is insatiable. It cannot be actually described.

A whole stanza is dedicated to what i believe in. My God is the God of the breeze...The Good in everything...and that good died...for me (roughly), is an intimation at the belief in Christianity. Christians hold Jesus Christ in high regard as the only naturally good/pure to ever exist on this earth. My experience with sacrificial salvation is that my God (Jesus Christ) moved through the Ocean Breeze I used to smell in the morning as a child, even though the poem is written about how i experience the breeze as an adolescent now. After I moved away, I lost that child-like purity that we all experience in our youth, it died.

Most philosophers agree, that a man cannot grow up and be entirely pure, or naive as the poem suggests. And for me, that's becasue i moved away that part of my childhood died, and it saved me because of it.

In reality I relate the purity/naivetee of childhood to the ocean breeze as I used to smell every morning, as a modern form of Christ's personal sacrifice for me. Another hidden scheme in the poem is a hint that I will return the favor sometime; that Christ paid me. I plan on joining the military, and the possibility of dying, will be not nearly as large as a deed as Jesus did for me, but I can do through it what i believe he would want me to. Even if I die at old age, or of non combatant causes, putting time in is still a sacrifice for anyone.

However, the poem does not have to just describe me. Anyone can read that poem and relate to it, and interpret it for their own doing as well. I have only revealed the motive behind my writing it. After all a poem is just a compiliation of adjectives and subjects.
Ah I see. Thanks for taking the time for explaining this to us man, I appreciate that. And now that I understand where it comes from, I regard it as even better. Good stuff, and thanks for sharing.
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