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Poetry Magnum Opus



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From vaulted halls of spiralled words

tattooed on ancient manuscripts,

the clefs of singing minarets

parley with crotchet synagogues.

Cathedrals boom toccatan might

in far flung flying buttress chords,

to dance the dust of quaver shrines

in codas of the three blind mice.


And galleon concertos rush

to expurgate the ulian pipes,

as cutlass concertinas fade

in cadences of gasping breath.

Tremolo scimitars of dhows

hypnotic and so finely honed,

augment the fakir's wailing pungi,

charm new snakes from old bazaars.


Shrill pizzicato politicians

dance their sarabandes of wealth,

ring turgid false arpeggios,

sing upside down and back to front

their choruses of inside out.

They bend and sway collectively

with dark conductors and their choirs

in staggered never ending rounds.


Befuddled matchstick people sob

their sorrows into brazier fires.

Loud and tatty arcades thrum,

and pregnant wheelie bins in rows

salute their saviour by the road.

The busker on a daily rant,

impatiently looks up and waits

a one-eyed limping man called Hope.

Edited by Benjamin
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Very well composed, Geoff, with incredible vocabulary throughout. This calls to mind those age-old political institutions that are the world's organized religions.



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

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Thanks for the feedback Tony. I put this together rather like a piece of abstract art to let the reader make of it what they will. Not everyone's cup of tea admittedly but I enjoyed the self-indulgence. :icon_sunny:

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Larsen M. Callirhoe

wow so mamy ways to look at this poem. the articulation, the religious overtone or the abstract way religion is or the way iy should really be. i a impressed with the vernacular words ised thru out the [pem. something to ponder over is just the awesome vpcabulary used. wow. thos poem has so much to over on many levels.





Larsen M. Callirhoe

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David W. Parsley

Just some thoughts about the poem:


1. Reminds me of examples of what Robert Bly used to call 'leaping poetry,' justifying the title. There is a persisting theme of performing varying types of traditional music in their traditional contexts, but the transitions are deliberately abrupt and disjointed. The leaping aspect is heightened by unusual juxtapositions that do not submit to immediate analysis: "crotchet synagogues", "quaver shrines", "galleon concertos", etc. Almost seems stream-of-consciousness. Come to think of it, almost a Garcia Lorca way of moving.


2. I like the way it sounds. I like the way it moves.


3. A few turns of phrase tread near the mundane, which is jarring in a poem with so much that is startling. Examples: "finely honed", "never ending rounds", ... could just be me.


4. Like some of the other commentators, I get a sense that there is this dance of traditional institutions blind to common miseries and needs. But it may be vain to pin this poem down, it is a leaper!


- Dave

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Victor. Thank you for reading and leaving comment.

Dave. Your comments are much appreciated and noted. I enclose the following feedback from someone on another forum whom I hold in high regard.

I particularly enjoy the pieces you've been posting lately, strange and

inevitable, excellent poetry. They read to me as the natural outflow from

dadaism and surrealism to contemporary verse, accessible while challenging the

reader to dare start seeing things.”

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