`
A winsome voice rose
into the unlit sky
its fingers harped
unwakened dreams
A bare vignette lurched
into the shadows
its claws scraped
unshoed expeditions
An arm is raised high
blurry stars in witness
its blood testifies
unquieted aspirations
A voice rose to the Night.
and formed a melody
its waiting days expired
unsought gem wanes.
`
Comments
is this the after effects of
being long time absent
in the wilderness
with your best companion
i wonder !
ah the wilderness of illness
not a very good place to be.
A few more days before I'm a hundred percent.
fred
There is such a smooth pace to this write. You took the edge off death or is it loss. I seem to feel them hand in hand. as if it was thw loss of youth or a moment.
beautiful write my friend across the pond.
Eddie C.
thanks Eddie
the concept of loss is quite a daunting theme in poetry...
it is only too easy to fall into cliche and using boring material.
Your comment is much appreciated.
Thanks CB
The availability of many and varied meanings is a quality of poetry that I aim to espouse.
hi
A stirring write which I enjoyed, but I think the word is "unshod" not unshoed (unless misuse was intentional).................scribbler
he-he
unshoed is not a word... but yes, it is intentional, the same with unwakened... unshod is a bit too posh for this work.... don't you think? :-) thanks for vocalising the pick up. I was hoping someone would've called me on that earlier. hahaha
There is always a reason
my dear friend. I am not wont to the employing of words willy-nilly. lol.
That stanza refers to the vicarious travels of the printed page, whose vignettes have faded away.
Hope it wasn't too dense. Cheers.
Aww, Ian
there is no harm done, please don't get all awkward. And there certainly is no intention of cornering anyone on both our parts. I just boil it down to the fact that we all approach individual poems from varying standpoints and who knows, if you get the read the poem another time something else comes to the fore. I just hope that this devious device is not one to trip up the reader. I suspect that without you mentioning that concern others who aren't as upfront will let the concern go under the carpet and walk away with the question unanswered. :-) I love it when poetic interaction comes together. We all benefit from it. Cheers CB
one of my initial ideas
was to move with the present momentum of the wonderful blogs that you have been putting up... in a competitive form wherein everyone is a winner. The mechanics of which will centre around us writing poems for each of the forms as strict to the format as possible and then moving on to the next... That way we would all have achieved (at least once) to write within the parameters of each form and then move on to the next step, modifying it and/or creating something probably totally different but sourced from that basic format.
As for the seeming lack of comments/responses/critiques... We can only do so much on our own... and many are struggling to up their poetic craft let alone up their critical skills. I foresee it to be a gradual and sometimes slow upward process. It will take a lot of coaching and coaxing, encouragement and bite size chunks. I suggest that partial critiques be encouraged as we all develop in that area so we can begin at the shallow end of the pool and work our way to the deeper end/s. The above-mentioned competition type activity on the different forms of poetry would give us a chance to familiarise ourselves (in action) with the poetic types in a personal way and that would help us in our critical abilities as well. In the end of this seemingly grueling process we all shall (hopefully in practise) turn up as winners.
Loss
but not only of life here, for the way you've described it as an animal who is trying to stay alive, reminds me a little of Kipling and his descriptions of the animals. We all are part beast when we see an end come too quick and we fight for it. I enjoyed this write.
Thanks Chez
I love that you got down to the poem and made it speak your heart. The allusion to Kipling has its special place in my childhood memories as well.