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Poetry Magnum Opus

maneuvers


Benjamin
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a pair of silver jets fly low

then sweep up high

leaving behind

a bridal train--

and rumbles

that churn and roll

come crashing down

like the wrath of god--

on coconut shells

stuffed with suet and seed

and pieces of fruit and bread

scattered on paths

below the once green larch

where magpie starling

pigeon and gull

jostle-- with robin

wren and mistle thrush

1

a silver teapot

on the table

rests by matching racks

of buttered toast

and propped newspapers

mince confetti

conversations

amongst the steaming cups

and sun-pre-warmed

conservatory seats

 

1

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The stark images here brought a static charge to the hair on my arms. I read this several times, each bringing new meanings. "

  • "a pair of silver jets fly low
    then sweep up high
    leaving behind
    a bridal train--" Contrails were once a constant vision in my life, now just a microcosm of hundreds of souls passing like ships in the night.

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Larsen M. Callirhoe

very image filled poem b.

 

enjoyed.

 

victor

Larsen M. Callirhoe

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Thank you both. The implications of the jet fighters' "maneuvers" contrasts with the innocent "jostling" for survival of indifferent non-migratory birds.

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stuffed with suet and seed

 

My favorite line. Peace to the birds.....

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  • 2 weeks later...
  • 1 month later...
David W. Parsley

Ben, I have come back to this one several times. The added stanza brings an entirely different dimension and sense of mystery to a piece that already "raises hair on the arm" (well said, Paco). As Boromir might say upon encountering the added lines: "What new devilry is this!" What indeed? Is this the indifferent setting for the privileged who set such mayhem in motion? Is it in the neighborhood of the conflict, and if so, where are those who are supposed to be enjoying pleasantries proffered - fled to some alarm, victims of an accompanying attack (gas, fast-acting bacteria, blast of radiation as from neutron bomb)? Or is it just me, missing the point, yet tanalized by juxtaposition of images?

 

Another note (probably more valid than the ramblings of the initial paragraph): I like the conjunction of earth-shaking violence with birds going about the business of flitting around, finding food, etc. Reminiscent of themes raised by W. H. Auden in Musee des Beaux Artes.

 

Thanks,

- Dave

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Thanks for coming back to this Dave. Without taking the mystery away I guess it's a way of saying the world will still turn irrespective of what we do. Purely as a point of interest.. maidenhair trees survived Hiroshima and are still alive today. :smile:

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