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6 posts in this topic

Freedom

 

On the coastal cliffs

shaded gray,

I look out to a blackened sea.

A spiny strata

fragments under foot

and a jolting

descent

begins.

 

Needle pricks

of stinging wind press

upward into chest,

throat and face.

Sour bile rises

like black tar boiling from the belly. . .

 

fall or fly. . . .

--- Judi Van Gorder.

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Ahh! I remember this one! This is one of my favourite poems by you.

 

I love the uncertain end!!

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Wonderful poem Tink, I can't remember good on this one, but I like it a lot. And yes you are right. Its sounds like collaborative work with golden's poem The Colour of Fear

 

The imageries are wonderful here Tink

 

Aleksandra

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Hi Tink,

 

I do remember your poem well, particularly these superb details:

 

"spiny strata" "black tar boiling from the belly."

 

And yes, by a link of spirit and inspiration across the seas, your very well crafted poem, strikes a chord with my piece. The build up of fear and your use of colours - "gray, blackened sea, bile, black tar" all make palpable the nerve racking moment you've captured here.

 

I'm so glad and touched that you posted this again as a link to our poems.

 

Thank you

icon_smile.gif

 

 

goldenlangur

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Some great imagery here. I especially like the black tar.

 

Prefer black pudding though icon_smile.gif

 

Great stuff!

 

Cheers

 

Mike

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I, too, appreciate the uncertainty. Is the narrator hang-gliding? Is s/he base jumping? Perhaps the safeties are all off ...

 

For me, the "blackened sea" conjures a unique, inexplicable, Old World sense of hopeful hopelessness. It moves me a lot.

 

Tony

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