|
6074. RickNelson - 12/6/2010 7:34:04 PM http://poems.com/poem.php?date=14920
I haven't much time left on this library computer, but I found a poem I want to revisit. 6075. RickNelson - 12/8/2010 8:41:28 PM Fathers and Sons
By Patrick Lane
Some individual words that express what I think the poem means.
"love", "first word", "whole earth".
These three parts of the whole run through the words of the poem. There is an intenseness for the morbid, beyond which lies agelessness.
6076. RickNelson - 12/12/2010 11:38:32 PM “Catch the wind that” breaks “the butterfly” – part quote from Oasis (the band)
Talking to you is like filling the deepest chasm;
Whose depths are spackled with spittle and spew.
New poem I wrote this week.
Catch the Wind:
Through the thick winded words,
where hearts and minds are damned,
there is glad and sorrowful music,
clinging to the most fragile tissue of my being.
My spirit cuddles nothing in a dark corner,
whose aural glow shoots sparks of anger.
Soul numbed tendrils fade because of the intense gloom.
The expulsion of energy, suspense,
punctuates the stress. Accentuate,
acculturate, accelerate.
I'm alienated, conciliate.
Diverted to harmonize my voice.
Intruding spikes pierce the aural glow,
spikes of misfortune, to mangle a message.
My Intolerant occasion, discordant flow,
corollary to the rise of inevitable
development. Expanding and connected.
Succession of repetition and sequence.
Music on the wind, melody and muse,
springs strings, tapping and breeze
and mixing like the tidal swirl of my words.
Clash-chasm is deep and wide, it was made
just so, impossible depths, keep those words,
damn words--Slam--the rocks below!
6077. Seamus - 9/13/2011 9:00:59 PM Magus, in flight
Sleepy worded worlds conjure
Neruda with my lips moving,
late evening, high over Peloponnesian foothills.
Nearby, a voice down under warm
salt water stalks
the poem's next strophe.
She dogs me
through moon-spent nights.
Down by the knees, I'm taken, even before
her sky eyes lift
me across the sea, sand, aisle,
land me in 23A.
We have agreed
we will never touch
down else the hounds find me.
Seamus
(appeared in Triggerfish Critical Review Dec 2009) 6078. arkymalarky - 9/14/2011 3:44:17 AM SEAMUS!!!
love the poem. have you posted it here before? 6079. arkymalarky - 9/14/2011 3:47:10 AM SEAMUS!!!
love the poem. have you posted it here before? 6080. RickNelson - 9/15/2011 2:32:20 AM Seamus
Warms the heart.
Arky,
That's a new one I think? How could I really know though? I wasn't doing anything for so long.
Things are Ok, except for politics, the environment, education, etc... blah, blah, blah... All the stuff to avoid.
Just turned 50 and I'm contemplative. Ha, as if. I'm always contemplative.
Itching to write. I hope I've time very, very soon. 6081. RickNelson - 9/15/2011 2:42:28 AM 6028 Wizard, I lost that opportunity to give my regards. That share of your work assists many. How wonderful you shared and gave so much. Delightful and gracious. I'm warmed to the core. 6082. arkymalarky - 9/15/2011 4:21:21 AM that's how 50 was for me. so lovely seeing you in here, rick. 6083. vonKreedon - 4/2/2012 7:19:15 PM A couple of Haikus I wrote in my head while driving back from Boise.
Turkey vulture soars
Over river in full spate
New life arises
...
Hillsides old velour
Kamikaze tumbleweeds
Explode on my grill 6085. arkymalarky - 4/2/2012 10:28:17 PM Love it! Great to see the poetry thread active. 6086. RickNelson - 11/27/2012 5:15:44 PM Who do you suppose I thought of today?
We'll after my brother, who's 50 today.
Second, was the old dude pseud, and then the fav of mine Marjoribanks, or as pseud dude dubbed him Marzipranks.
I thought of cellardoor and Wiz, and all of you. I'm not leaving anyone out. It's just one of those days. A spark and there it is.
Been grabbing a poem here and there, opening one of my old books on occasion, recalling the fervor of the not so distant past.
Wonder what that ol' Pelle is up to?
Seamus too?
Jacob is 8, ain't that great?!
Best wishes and warm regards.
6087. ricknelson - 8/30/2013 1:30:27 PM In honor of Seamus Heaney who died Fri. Aug. 30th, 2013, I've rewritten an old poem I posted in Sept. 1999.
Sunset:
A pink sky background
where cloud streaks abound
rayed with brilliance
inlayed light blue
Carve this elaborate scene
embracing sunset
Tabernacles pale
monuments fail
light filtered haze
branches now shadows
A foreground of veins
aureole tree manes
Wind rippled water
reflect far shore
mirror of beauty
embracing sunset 6088. thoughtful - 8/30/2013 1:41:53 PM So sorry for your loss....
Lovely poem. 6089. arkymalarky - 8/30/2013 10:48:38 PM Ohhh, thank you for posting. Sad news and beautiful imagery. 6090. judithathome - 8/30/2013 11:05:48 PM Rick, sorry to be the bearer of bad tidings but Pelle passed away earlier this year. 6091. ricknelson - 8/31/2013 2:53:31 PM Thanks judithathome, I stopped in a few months ago and discovered that news. I was reminiscing last year.
I do miss having time to work on writing.
Yesterday I discovered the Kenny Neal and the Neal family. They're an awesome group of musicians. 6092. bhelpuri - 2/17/2014 7:45:29 PM What up, Ryckster! 6093. NuPlanetOne - 4/28/2014 3:32:29 AM
Was going through old files and found this first poem I had posted years ago. Which our old friend Maria followed with one in the same vein. Miss that girl!
Like a Pet
That time, it was close
I thought I could avoid thinking
I thought I might get lost
In your rhythm. In your tossed
And sinking ship. Some company
Going down. Yet, bewildered
You could not pull me out
I did not even reach for your hand
Your look as it scanned my face
Was a death all by itself
I could not explain. You could not
Understand. In any case,
Nothing changed for me
It never does. But I saved you
Had I pulled you in my sin
Would have been greater. I could
Have kept you forever. You know,
Like a pet.
And when I saw you again, I should
Have said more. And how eerily you let
Me go. It bothered me for days
It disturbed me in ways
I dread to examine. But I dug
I sifted and the hammer struck me
It was not death on your face
It was relief. Good Jesus!
Could I be that alone. This belief
This tragedy that I play to
This resignation and conceited grief
That I live in. What? Even that,
My conclusions, even these?
Even you! You called them delusions
I remember now. I remember how
You quickly changed your tone
You had figured it out, wow!
And then just played along! And now
While it all settles in, had I known
You could have saved me,I would
Have taken your hand and learned
To sit and obey and stay, you know,
Like a pet. But you let me go.
NuPlanetOne
You May Not Bell the Cat
Save me? Save me?
Oh, no, my dear;
I saved myself.
Per secula
Seculorum;
For ever and
Ever, Amen.
I am the cat
Who walks alone;
Solitary
Splendor suits me.
You might as well
Have tried to keep
A lightning bolt
From flashing by.
You think too much;
Did I forget
To tell you that?
Of course I let
You go, to give
Us both a chance
To start the dance
Anew, untouched
By boredom’s taint.
That is the death
From which I run,
And which you saw
Reflected in
My gaze. Enough!
Despair shall be
The death of you,
If you let it.
Away with you;
These eternal
Postmortems still
The song of life.
Maria Gleason
6094. arkymalarky - 4/28/2014 3:43:15 AM Oh Nu! And thank you for reposting those poems! Always one of the best things about the whole place. Thanks for bringing it back to the surface.
|
