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Poetry Magnum Opus

New Year Fragments


JoelJosol

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Darkness breaks up

into colors then black.

 

The ears catch first the silence,

then the blast.

 

He carries on

between the presence and absence.

 

He knows you are still here,

slipping back and forth

 

in his memory

like a New Year’s eve fireworks.

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

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badge,

 

I hate to admit it, but I failt to see simile, i.e., a trope, one of those figures of speech that are some of the tools for making poetry. There are other 'similes' not so labeled, and I would appreciate it if you clarify this for me.

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Beautifully expressed, Joel, especially the first four lines. The at-first-glance seeming contradictions of darkness ... into colors and how the ears catch first the silence impart a familiarity to the situation. It's almost like one knows what to expect. This sets the stage for the rest of the poem which focuses on that place of uncertainty that exists between the presence and absence felt by the survivor. The sense of isolation is magnified when one considers the title: New Year Fragments. New Year is typically a time of hope and celebration. Not much of that going on for the protagonist in this poem. I loved this.

 

Tony

Here is a link to an index of my works on this site: tonyv's Member Archive topic

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I am strangely touched by some un-name-able insight to this poem as a whole. I am still struggling with hooking my responses to the proper preceding message. Thus, my previous contained a query to badge and had nothing re any specific artistic feature. Hope you caught that and not thought I was perhaps trying to pan your poem.

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Hi JoelJosol,

 

I too got a sense of dislocation and grieving :

 

He carries on

between the presence and absence.

 

He knows you are still here,

slipping back and forth

 

The He being lost in some kind of mental and emotional catacomb beyond the reach of the loved and grieving one.

 

 

Thank you.

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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JJ-

 

An excellent reflection on the liminal space transcribed by the full engagement with a moment both the presence of the other by simply remembering but simultaneously the absence heightened by the same remembering- all too human and very profound-- Happy- happy 2010!

 

DC&J

Gate(less.thumb.png.dc23b19d2478d37a9f6fcdc563973026.pnghttps://conjurd.substack.com/welcome Come on over and check out my poetry substack y'all;-)

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A brilliant composed poem, Joel. The solid expressions and imagery works so well and that makes the poem amazing.

 

I love it.

 

Aleksandra

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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