Late is the hour, later the light,
Yet I could stay up here all night,
Following, lighthouse swinging low,
sweeping beams through green shallows
Over there, shall I call it sight?
No more, red glimmer, shimmer light
of Calais, and the remnant coast
are land locked with my heart in throat
A cry from deep in that old town,
I was younger then, and easier drowned
She ran to me, then ran from me
I let her go, I let her be
They say a name denotes the past
I looked and found no sign outlasts
that name, no record, no small town
had heard the name of you around
A stranger on the cliffs of time,
A green-spun youth I thought you mine
We met out on a famed journey
to ruined castle, Leigh on Sea
I followed you down through history
but found your story ends with me
and now, I cast my eyes net far
across the black, lit sea of stars
out to the country where you are,
from this cliff top rock and scar
Were you the ruin, the end of me?
No, I spread my wings to flee,
from that hemisphere, here to be
deep in the warm southern seas,
where another now waits for me.
from ancient cliff in eternity.
Comments
very great read
I mean really great sounding language, rhyme, and images. C'est Ca, Poesie!
I'm think i'm catching the thread.. I pick up there's an older man, now living down under, but still attached to his roots and a lover lost...the word "drowned" has a finality to it, but I sense here was the drowning in love. Also for me the word "history" has at first too much depth, i start thinking of history in it's BIG sense, but here I think it is only the within the lifetime of the first person, who "fled" his home land and will find a different mate for life. Are you that man, or is it a father or other?Just curious. Am I reading your poem correctly?
The way the words read is just gorgeous. The shape of the shorter lines work great in this work.
Hey there Eumo..welcome back!
And thankyou, I write this by poor lamplight..excuse my brevity.Yes, this was a kind of remembrance and satori of the past person - part fictional, partly trying to understand infatuation..back then I was seeing a raven haired, porcelain beauty - with French heritage, (they were the only LeCorneys in town!) - but brought up in the UK, with that innate intelligence, studies journalism, Becket translations into French, yada yada..pretty much big on the humanities, while I was more focused on the technical nascent dark arts of computing at University. I wished, I had stuck with the humanities (I think I've alluded to my rude unschooled ways before) hence realised that was what made us grow apart..cannon fodder for the heart, long in the past now, but great inspiration when you can recall an emotion. Reason, I'd just read Arnold's Dover Beach again after a while, and realised some things resonate in there..bloody great poem, Dover Beach - i'm sure you know..
Anyway that was the greater back story (I always wondered btw if Elliot had some linear connection with Arnold? Perhaps would love to know)
PS - When I pulled up at my litttle cold hill tonight, and checked the letterboxes all blown open by our raucus winds - guess what I found? It made it, and I am profoundly moved and grateful. I have to keep going, but will IM you. Loved the single pieces, having a crack at Pessoa. Don't move anywhere - there will be hands across the water (or books at least from Terra Australis) soon!
Cheers, and take care.
Chris.
great!
Sent with pleasure! No rush to reciprocate.
Interesting how your memory mixed with all those elements to create this poem. I do know Dover Beach, even better now that I have re-read it. Where ignorant armies clash by night. wow.
I am finding that with the better poets
my readings give the best critique, you hear my stumbles and necessitated changes of stress and even words.
https://soundcloud.com/neopoet/from-a-dover-clifftop-by-chris-vandiemen…
As usual, your permission needed to post to Neopoet.com on Facebook.
And back in the land of internet..
Hey Jess, and yes of course you do - find these very useful - and I see what you mean, it does help. I'll re-read, make some chages then listen - again.
Thanks.
Chris.
*We just got our dodgy satellite link back up so sorry for late reply.
Stan reckons he can see the meter stumbles
on the wochacallit, squiggly sound line thing?
Deft and elegant revisions, Chris
Changing the feel and effectiveness of the whole piece.
Fuck I adore this process and this site! It is such an honour to witness and participate in.
Thanks for all the help..is Stan a sound man?
Can see the meter..? WTF ;) - here is a quieter, subdued very pommy re-take I did, also, had a go at "Killing God" if you check back on those comments, link is there. Here's The cliff again:
https://soundcloud.com/user528181418/dover-clifftop
Cheers,
And yes, the system works!
Chris.
Stan is not tech anything,
He would use a quill and parchment if he could.
No, I'm talking about the timeline on SoundCloud where you can see the levels.
Wow, so different, quite apart from the revisions. Bloody fascinating, isn't it?
indeed it is..
once you get past the awkward self conciouness - the gravel filter will help with that. i've foind a page of plugins and filters, wow you could really go to town here. Since poetry was an oral tradition, i think more emphasis should be placed on this. it really does help you to improve.
Cheers,
Chris.
So glad you agree
I've been quietly moving towards this for years.
I really believe poetry is intrinsically an oral tradition.