Terry A Posted February 12 Share Posted February 12 Did you say anything? When the dark came seeping in a deathly pall pouring over light Did you plan? That warm hand reaching for yours should in the end find cold the thing left behind? That your leaving found others huddling for the warmth your words could fashion into blankets; no priest caste stepping to the plate to build roads of traverse the world you touched by sun not contained by sound bites or collectors of unusual things or by songs played at midnight in cafes going to sleep and that even that one kiss might fly into the night too puzzled to ever alight to some knowing it could keep. While the centre of the Earth holds tight to its moon churning mantle and the singing sloughs off the chaos circling like ravens looking for fresh kill. Until all the anchors lift and hurtle into space, settling time in back and forward forward and back the confusion of love looking over how many ways we could die, have died, will die could live, have lived, will live. 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
David W. Parsley Posted February 18 Share Posted February 18 Terry, I won't pretend I know what is going on here. But the imagery and diction, internal and external rhymes, the mild motion of refrain: works for this reader! Thanks, - Dave Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Terry A Posted February 18 Author Share Posted February 18 Thank you for your comments. The poem was intended as a eulogy for a friend at a funeral that never happened. At least some of the attendees would have nodded knowing its meaning. I do think it succeeds adequately in its poeming but too cryptic in meaning it fails. It belongs in a book that has a more established basis for it. I might have titled it- Eulogy for a Time-Traveller, but do not know if that would have served understanding any better. Sometimes it's difficult for a writer to estimate a poem themselves. That's where feedback is so valuable. Thanks again, David. Terry Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
David W. Parsley Posted February 19 Share Posted February 19 Hi Terry, glad my comments are helpful, but please don't take them as coming from some infallible touchstone. There are brilliant images and eruptions of thought here that should not be disturbed. Even without fully comprehending the thing, I am taken to places not quite familiar and I touch the Mystery of things like im/mortality and the reach of our most precious communities, their place in the broader sense of inquiry and Existence itself. Please be careful with this creation of yours. Maybe something could be done with the title or a subtitle, to bring just a little more of the literal context? Hopefully others on the forum will bring their own insights to this work. That's part of the privilege of coming here. With Admiration and Humility, - Dave Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Tinker Posted February 21 Share Posted February 21 Hi Terry, The reader always brings something to the plate and in this case, the first strophe of this piece was almost a reenactment of my experience at my husband's passing. There is always something the reader grasps and makes their own. Even though you meant this for a specific audience parts still translate to the outsider. ~~Judi Quote ~~ © ~~ Poems by Judi Van Gorder ~~ For permission to use this work you can write to Tinker1111@icloud.com Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Terry A Posted February 21 Author Share Posted February 21 Thank you both! I will work on poeming that synthesizes more inclusive understanding for the reader, after all, poems are for readers. The esteemed critic R.P. Blackmur said "Poems fail if the reader must supply too much from outside the poem". Mind you he was talking about Elliot's 'Wasteland' where he felt this failing was evident. But in my younger days, I loved Elliot's poem, feeling it and its power. Now there are whole books written on interpreting it, whereas 'Prufrock' is every bit as wonderful without being quite so complicated. And so, to my mind now, the better poem. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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