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Poetry Magnum Opus
Benjamin

Arboreal Complaint

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Benjamin

Version 1
I give food,
shelter, infinite tools:
transported you to different worlds.
I've been a timeless bower where you courted love;
the bed where you consummated it.
Proffered books-- and boxes
for your dead:
the pyres for them to burn.
You've had your cradle and rocking chair:
I, ingest your misery and charge it with life
that you may breathe. And still you offer
nought appropriate to
warrant thanks.

Version 2

nourishment
shelter-- infinite tools
the transportation to other worlds
I've been the age old bower where you courted love
the bed where you consummated it
proferred books-- and boxes
for your dead
made pyres for them to burn
you've had your cradle and rocking chair
ate fruit by the warmth of flames while you praised my form
though I question your naiveté...
still charge the air with life
that you breathe

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dr_con

I really enjoy this- but fr some reason the last lines feels flat or unnecessary- But hat could be my deeply odd mood today. Enjoyed the images the playing, the gifting and yet...

 

Thanks for this!

 

Juris


Join the Voodoo rEvolution. Classes forming now: http://www.integralvoodoo.org/

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Benjamin

Thanks Juris I appreciate your feedback. It's something I've had on the back-burner for a while. Perhaps it needs another shuffle when the mood takes me. G. :smile:

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fdelano

I don't often dare disagree with Doc, but for me the last lines are necessary to complete the theme of unrequited love. Still, I have a faint memory of being wrong at least one time.

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dr_con

Franklin is probably dead on. It really could have been my mood: As a personification of the 'arboreal' it seems the complaint is legitimate, I think upon reflecting on my reaction, and even Unrequited Love, We get something from every exchange, even my worst relationships, the ones I denied any benefit, it seems I was never honest enough;-) And trees are nothing but honesty (well in my personification, anyhow) Even the Ents in LOTR gained the ability to unify against a threat after long years of passivity! ;-) So, it was my mood, and the piece is good as it stands, just clarifying for (myself) why I reacted as I did, for if we are to anthropomorphise our wooden brothers, how are we not to see their reflections in our own struggles? ;-)

 

Thanks G!

 

Juris


Join the Voodoo rEvolution. Classes forming now: http://www.integralvoodoo.org/

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fdelano

Indeed! We arrogant humans tend to anthropomorphize everything--even creating God in our own image. But what would poetry be without such projections. Okay--time for my nap. ;)

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JoelJosol

I have to agree with DC that the poem has force moving forward. It is the shift that needs a-working.

 

My mind created an ending of its own but with symbols only a Bible reader can appreciate

 

"And there were nine of you that never returned" :-)


"Words are not things, and yet they are not non-things either." - Ann Lauterbach

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Gatekeeper

The title doesn't seem to relate - but I think I've never been so good at titles.

 

The poem is sour, if not bitter, by my read.

 

Maybe you sit in a lemon tree?


from the black desert

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Benjamin

Some interesting responses here for which I thank you all. I smiled at Juris' mention of Tolkien's Ents: who.. if I recall correctly, searched unsuccessfully for their vanished Ent-wives. G :smile:

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moonqueen

Geoff, I enjoyed this, a great deal. But, what could be offered? It actually makes me think of all the wildfires we have, anymore. I find this quite different. Which, I believe is good.

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Benjamin

For most of us.. personal circumstances affect the way we view things. The one thing in common we all have is the globe in which we live. I read an interesting article the other day attributed to David Attenborough which attracted a variety of comments. http://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/2013/01/22/david-attenborough-radio-times-interview-population_n_2524315.html

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dedalus

Hmmm ... I 'gave' food (?) since the immediate tense change is disconcerting. A little bit tricky, this one, Ben. Until the conclusion the reader is never quite sure where the writer's true feelings lie. And even then ....


Drown your sorrows in drink, by all means, but the real sorrows can swim

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David W. Parsley

Hi Geoff, such personification presents a very challenging kind of poem to write, especially in our time of the world with deep distrust of "agendas" and idealizations. You do a good job of dodging self-pity or railing blame, though the closing lines come close.

 

I, too, find some dissatsifaction in the opening and closing lines. Might you consider a more specific verb than "give", something that broadens the simplistic "food"? I understand that "yield" and "confer" may over-dramatize things, but I would still poke at that. And could something be said for food that plays into the aspects of fruit and flame? Just a thought.

 

- Dave

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Benjamin

Thanks for the constructive comments Bren and Dave they are most useful. I'll "poke" around with it at my leisure and see what surfaces. Cheers! G.

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