Poem

[Terry]

I need honest feed back on this one.







Lake, deviously warm


Sun’s glare awakens,


croon of birds whisper


sharp, through shivering air​

All are calm, slowly


rebelling the nature of


ripple​

Their eyes locked


with Apollonian glare


Mine are cold, burn​

My inversion swallowed


The calm water speaks​

Still blind to my presence​

Ah, finally I see all are


much better with chaos


Blind to my fluttering kick


Above the chained ripple​

Passing me by


I wonder how to be born​

They pass, still,


without any ripple


but mine​

My eyes failing to drink


Thus breathing in the cold bubble​

Will anyone ever


come more slowly?


A nudge will do​

Great sensual taste


Salty becoming


death​

Why everyone flutters


just as I


My world of shame


for all to see​

Still no nudge


Still I flutter


for all to see​

Feet dry, ears filled to the brim


Oh, death’s ditty


full of thumps and bubble​

Again blind, perfect under chaos


Many nudges my way​

Many ripples too​

A calm restores


Rock ties me to shore​

The wolf nibbles


My mortal


a tasteless appetizer ​

 

[midcan5]

I read a water poem
about inarticulate nature
and how the sensuality
of life, its tastes,
its smells, its being
filled the author
with awe but
somehow the mix of images
the combination of adjectives
light sound feeling death beauty
confused me.


What were you aiming at here? The combinations are a bit odd to my ear but I liked the words.

 

[Terry]

I read a water poem
about inarticulate nature
and how the sensuality
of life, its tastes,
its smells, its being
filled the author
with awe but
somehow the mix of images
the combination of adjectives
light sound feeling death beauty
confused me.


What were you aiming at here? The combinations are a bit odd to my ear but I liked the words.

I didn't write this I should have stated that first off. A dear friend did, and he writes poems all the time. He is Military and got a dear john letter from his wife. I suppose that's why you are confused as I was. I wanted someone else to verify what I thought because frankly I wasn't sure...Now I am. Gosh I'm just not being clear and concise either.

 

[xotoxi]

Very well written.

It sound like it is written from the perspective of someone who is drowning in the presense of people who are not aware that they are drowning.

Is the author profoundly depressed, perchance?

 

[Terry]

Very well written.

It sound like it is written from the perspective of someone who is drowning in the presense of people who are not aware that they are drowning.

Is the author profoundly depressed, perchance?

As I stated he is currently serving in the Military station overseas (Middle East) and he got a dear John letter from his wife. So yes he was depressed and reflective.

 

[xotoxi]

Very well written.

It sound like it is written from the perspective of someone who is drowning in the presense of people who are not aware that they are drowning.

Is the author profoundly depressed, perchance?

As I stated he is currently serving in the Military station overseas (Middle East) and he got a dear John letter from his wife. So yes he was depressed and reflective.

Oh...I didn't see the part about the letter.

I could see how that situation would make one feel like one was drowning.

 

[Terry]

Very well written.

It sound like it is written from the perspective of someone who is drowning in the presense of people who are not aware that they are drowning.

Is the author profoundly depressed, perchance?

As I stated he is currently serving in the Military station overseas (Middle East) and he got a dear John letter from his wife. So yes he was depressed and reflective.

Oh...I didn't see the part about the letter.

I could see how that situation would make one feel like one was drowning.

Then again all his poems are rather on the dark side. A lot like Jim Morrison was.

 

[xotoxi]

As I stated he is currently serving in the Military station overseas (Middle East) and he got a dear John letter from his wife. So yes he was depressed and reflective.

Oh...I didn't see the part about the letter.

I could see how that situation would make one feel like one was drowning.

Then again all his poems are rather on the dark side. A lot like Jim Morrison was.

He is good with the imagery.

 

[Terry]

Oh...I didn't see the part about the letter.

I could see how that situation would make one feel like one was drowning.

Then again all his poems are rather on the dark side. A lot like Jim Morrison was.

He is good with the imagery.

I told him he should gather all his works (15 years worth) and get them published. He doesn't think they are good enough. I think they are, this one isn't his best by far...because he was depressed when he wrote it. Most others he is just chilling listening to music as he writes...kind of in a zone.

He shares them with me all the time and frankly some I have no idea what to say to him because they are so dark. I did say once...Are you ok? LOL

He laughed and said, "It's like writing music, it's not really me...its like a nonfiction writer."

 

[Terry]

OMG, he just emailed me another....here it is...damn!

Rumble noise aches my head​

Rocks drift under my feet​

always giving birth​

to old dust​

​

Just as the sun brings​

heat to day​

ever so soft my thoughts​

of Eden dance with a sigh​

​

Crucifix of love, so​

Ending my right for it​

​

Love does not know me​

​

Troubled cause,​

no roof for sin​

Eyes blind to woman​

​

Love, an atom of parts​

​

Never really knowing until ​

all the rocks​

drift from my walk​

​

My walk to the ​

longing asylum alone​

​

Never loved by woman​

 

[JW Frogen]

Birdy, birdy in the snow,

Broken wing and broken toe,

Hardly breathing, almost dead,

Then I crushed it's little head.

I was drunk, and I hate the snow.

It was a bad night, cut me some slack.

 

[midcan5]

Ah the infamous 'Dear John,' while it may not help the poem it explains the state of mind and now makes more sense. I remember the crying and the occasional suicide during the Nam era. Basic was hard as it was, but hearing the love of your life moved on without you crushed many.

'Never give all the heart'

"Never give all the heart, for love
Will hardly seem worth thinking of
To passionate women if it seem
Certain, and they never dream
That it fades out from kiss to kiss;
For everything that's lovely is
But a brief, dreamy, kind delight.
O never give the heart outright,
For they, for all smooth lips can say,
Have given their hearts up to the play.
And who could play it well enough
If deaf and dumb and blind with love?
He that made this knows all the cost,
For he gave all his heart and lost."

W. B. Yeats