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Poetry Magnum Opus

painted flowers


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I finish a self portrait in a dream.

Blossoms release the perfume of paradise,

lilt of the afterlife. I wake to the theme

of ecstasy's advancing rush. I rise

and all of my senses are brought to a blaze

by the balance of natures brush. Flowers

do they dream of perfection?. As I gaze

upon a canvas a dreaming echo covers

a portrait from a dream that is beyond

the projection of this picture of blooms.

Mother nature's artful eye withers bonds,

sketching an old vase with a pencil grooms

my capacity for aesthetic creation

to equal natures unresting ambition.

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Posting in here has become I believe a waste of time....

Barry, posting in here is only what you make of it. People post for various reasons of their own if/when they can or so desire. I, myself, was going to post today, but life got in the way. Maybe tomorrow I can. Why don't you make posting here not "a waste of time" by making some quality replies on others' works?

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

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An an interesting line, “to equal nature's unresting ambition.” Most of our thoughts are memories.The diverse history of humanity is reflected in our literature: art, poetry and musical expression; the endless conflict of pragmatism/ ideology... the tangible and the intangible, the experiences of those alive and all of those who have lived.... Makes it so difficult to be unique with our own perceptions of nature and where we fit in the great scheme of things.

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Larsen M. Callirhoe

very unique portrayal of flowers and color mood perception in your words. enjoyed.

 

victor

Larsen M. Callirhoe

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

Hi Barry, I have been musing over this poem for quite a while (well, and also preoccupied with that nasty business of preserving my new job, recovering from severe illness, etc.), enjoying the interplay of image and color noted by Victor. There is much here. Ben's insights stir in some of the more interesting depths presented by the piece. And like Tony, I was blown away by the highly original speculation on the flowers themselves (or is it the painted flowers that harbor such dreams?). I found equal rewards in the first two and a half lines: very original and arresting.

 

Other devices did not work as well for this reader. Starting the first three sentences with 'I' seems clumsy and egotistical. Then, too, you are playing with fire when employing over-used rhyme pairs like dream-theme and blaze-gaze. The phrases containing them come across as somewhat contrived, even trite. Same complaint with the attempt to bring an original usage for Mother Nature - for good or ill, the phrase is too outworn for a rehabilitation of this kind.

 

Devices that work well are the following rhyme pairs: flowers-covers, which is subtle and delicate, suggestive of bounty; creation-ambition works, if you buy into the premise, which I find overblown as currently proposed (see next paragraph); rush-brush (nice internal rhyme), which evokes the frenzy of artistic creation.

 

The main problem for this luscious poem, in my view, is the jaw-dropping claim to equality with nature's creations. It is not phrased as an attempt or echo, but virtual equality. For this reader, that is not only going too far, it is not really supported or prepared by what precedes, so it sounds insincere.

 

Just one man's views. Keep sharing your work here.

 

Thanks,

- Dave

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