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Poetry Magnum Opus

Space


eclipse

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Earth's sleeping sky is left like

a child in a bedroom-the receding
planet is like a tattooists needle.
I have an iceberg in my mouth
containing my former selves from
planet earth. Planets drink their own
wine, Heaven and I wear the same
blindfold. This rocket is like a hole
cut out of a magic carpet. In the silence
I can hear Gods feet dancing on grapes.
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15 hours ago, eclipse said:
In the silence
I can hear Gods feet dancing on grapes.

The last line is really nice Barry, although I think it should be "God's".   I have to admit some of the other images are rather confusing and a bit disjointed to me.   But that is just me, I am having trouble wrapping my brain this one. 

~~Tink

~~ © ~~ Poems by Judi Van Gorder ~~

For permission to use this work you can write to Tinker1111@icloud.com

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are you familiar with this:

 

In a notorious and influential letter of May 15, 1871, to his publisher-friend Paul Demeny, the sixteen-year-old provincial high-school dropout, Arthur Rimbaud, boldly defined his vision of poetic creativity:

The Poet makes himself a seer by a long, gigantic and rational derangement of all the senses. All forms of love, suffering, and madness. He searches himself. He exhausts all poisons in himself and keeps only their quintessences. Unspeakable torture where he needs all his faith, all his superhuman strength, where he becomes among all men the great patient, the great criminal, the one accursed—and the supreme Scholar!—Because he reaches the unknown! Since he cultivated his soul, rich already, more than any man! He reaches the unknown, and when, bewildered, he ends by losing the intelligence of his visions, he has seen them. Let him die as he leaps through unheard of and unnamable things.1

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 Barry, I had not previously read this, but I agree with it.  I think this defines well some of your images.  I was not diminishing the creativity of your poem in my comment, I just was saying I couldn't connect,  even though I found beauty in some of your images.  You don't have to defend your work,  I was simply expressing my reaction.     

~~Tink

~~ © ~~ Poems by Judi Van Gorder ~~

For permission to use this work you can write to Tinker1111@icloud.com

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  • 2 weeks later...
  • 3 weeks later...
David W. Parsley

Barry, anything titled Space is going to get my attention.  I have been reserving this one for a time when I could best savor it, but now find that I was perhaps not so prepared after all.  I will return and comment again.  There is at least one symbolic thread that I find strangely compelling, that of unnervingly foreign forces at work in the winepresses of each individuated celestial body and of the universe itself, a devastating thud and scree of eternity.  It appeals to what is alien and alienating about experiencing separation from the familiar Earth to begin a personal journey into that vast emptiness.  Who dares call those distances unimaginable when a poet can touch, as here, the hem of their inscrutability?

 - David

 

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