Aleksandra Posted May 10, 2009 Share Posted May 10, 2009 All night, while my old bones creep and the scream hits my heart, musty boxes of memories are my nightly friend... Craven sang the song - one day, The child had grown and flown as a bird to the lands - so far... Years - hard as stones are a burden on my chest. You can see them in the lines on my face. Empty promises, the bitter taste of tears, open hands await... mouth full of prayers. " God, let this damned cuckoo fill her heart and eyes again, and then - .................... then kill her. It is dawn. The musty boxes of memories can't die in peace... The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau History of Macedonia Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
goldenlangur Posted May 10, 2009 Share Posted May 10, 2009 Hello Aleksandra, You paint such a desolate landscape - emotional and physical here. I like how you've extended the prose piece into this poem saturated with images of pain and loneliness. One gets a sense of inconsolable sadness, where "musty boxes of memories" are the narrator's sole link to life. This is very well drawn out here: aleksandra wrote: All night, while my old bones creep and the scream hits my heart, musty boxes of memories are my nightly friend... The contrast between the ominous "Craven" and the singing/noisy "Cuckoo" brings out this mental and physical distancing of the person from all normal relations and participation in life. The Craven's caws seem to unleash memories of the child leaving the home, never to return. All the parent is left with is a pervading sense of what might have been - "Empty promises". Even tears and prayers cannot bring respite from this pain and loss. But one reads an existential anguish beyond the personal in this dark poem Your recent work, including this poem shows an incredible depth of feelings and thoughts. I hope your Muse continues to bless you. goldenlangur Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
pawn shop Posted May 10, 2009 Share Posted May 10, 2009 Not bad. Instaed of " damned ".....I'd say "cute" Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
badger11 Posted May 10, 2009 Share Posted May 10, 2009 Lying awake with bad memories without the distractions of the day. Especially like how you use the 'birds' in your poem Aleks. You can see them in the lines on my face. But you have such a young face badge Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Aleksandra Posted May 10, 2009 Author Share Posted May 10, 2009 Hello Aleksandra, You paint such a desolate landscape - emotional and physical here. I like how you've extended the prose piece into this poem saturated with images of pain and loneliness. One gets a sense of inconsolable sadness, where "musty boxes of memories" are the narrator's sole link to life. This is very well drawn out here: aleksandra wrote: All night, while my old bones creep and the scream hits my heart, musty boxes of memories are my nightly friend... The contrast between the ominous "Craven" and the singing/noisy "Cuckoo" brings out this mental and physical distancing of the person from all normal relations and participation in life. The Craven's caws seem to unleash memories of the child leaving the home, never to return. All the parent is left with is a pervading sense of what might have been - "Empty promises". Even tears and prayers cannot bring respite from this pain and loss. But one reads an existential anguish beyond the personal in this dark poem Your recent work, including this poem shows an incredible depth of feelings and thoughts. I hope your Muse continues to bless you. goldenlangur Thank you goldenlangur I really like how you express the feelings on this poem. The song of craven is heard before the child says " goodbye " . So that is like prediction for bad happening. I am better when I write "dark" poetry or any kind of texts thank the wild and shiny . ( at least I feel like that, that I am better with those subjects ) Thank you so much for your comment, and yes muses works sometime a lot, but sometime ... But thats ok Aleksandra The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau History of Macedonia Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Aleksandra Posted May 10, 2009 Author Share Posted May 10, 2009 Not bad.Instaed of " damned ".....I'd say "cute" Ah "cute" ? Thank you for reading and for the comment pawn shop Aleksandra The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau History of Macedonia Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Aleksandra Posted May 10, 2009 Author Share Posted May 10, 2009 Lying awake with bad memories without the distractions of the day. Especially like how you use the 'birds' in your poem Aleks. You can see them in the lines on my face. But you have such a young face badge Badge my friend, you are always so kind, thank you. But that sentence I think we gonna say one day - all of us Thanks badge Aleksandra The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau History of Macedonia Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
tonyv Posted May 10, 2009 Share Posted May 10, 2009 As always, Alek, I love your expressions -- All night, whilemy old bones creep and the scream hits my heart, musty boxes of memories are my nightly friend... Craven sang the song - one day, The child had grown and flown as a bird to the lands - so far... Years - hard as stones are a burden on my chest. You can see them in the lines on my face. Empty promises, the bitter taste of tears, open hands await... mouth full of prayers. " God, let this damned cuckoo fill her heart and eyes again, and then - .................... then kill her. It is dawn. The musty boxes of memories can't die in peace... I don't picture the narrator as someone old. I picture her as someone grown weary -- old before her time. Tony Here is a link to an index of my works on this site: tonyv's Member Archive topic Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Aleksandra Posted May 10, 2009 Author Share Posted May 10, 2009 Thank you Tony for your comment and I like it your way of reading. Yes that can be truth. However the narrator can be old - for sure is older than she really is - because of all sadness in her life. Thank yyou for sharing your views Aleksandra The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau History of Macedonia Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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