You can blow out a candle -The man is dead —Peter Gabriel l. albatross inveigh their arcane arrogate in all their hymns, a herring & motes unfit as if expanses limitless ll. seashell at night these ebbs breathe out & yet where were you then today? lll. stones a cairn sits, pervicacious, verisimilitude, perhaps
lV. sand these hands: & still your heterogeneous slips V. waves back & forth you come & go; each single sui generis in frothy whips -- in tongues returning them as trophies, shells |
Author notes
Yihla Moja, rough translation - 'come spirit'
Written September 12th, 2006
In a list
A contest entry
- Contest: Barefoot Poetry for Those Without Shoes by Heart Sutra.
500 points, ended September 19, 2006, 2 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - see not the flame, know the artist, and understand blood. (invite only) by apples fell.
400 points, ended September 25, 2008, 34 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
1 - 61 of 61
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Congrats on the gold! (well...both of them)
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I'm with cat... crap. lol. As in damn, your exquisite talent. A wordsmith indeed, and one helluva a poet.
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Yes, this is what it's about. When I read this the first time after you first wrote it I thought right then, that you got it. Well, you get it. Bravo.
This poem reminds me so much of another poem, entirely different of course, but here it is, from AP Journal #1, which I sent you, I believe:
Borkou Desert, by Old Mole
Of all the exhibits in the African Hall
it is the most inconsistent with nature.
Four stuffed antelopes who in life
could not survive in this setting.
The alien skins, plucked from the fertile Savannah,
are shaped by a deception of creation
into muscular vitality.
In death these frameworks of accident govern the space.
It is here that she stops.
Her raven flax fans widely
obscuring the impact of a face.
The line of her hair is continued by her dark cloak
which hangs loosely.
At a sharp angle to this gentle mound,
a blush sickle of a nose.
In the Borkou Desert she is a still mound,
basking in the granulated bleached landscape.
The antelope whose busy odors no longer need support,
obtain harmony with the desert scrub
through their sheen, which glows blanched cleanness
in the artificial light.
Her bones soak.
The addax, his sinuous spindled leg thrusts forward,
his neck bends gracefully downward.
His bony power manifest itself in this single posture.
The delicate oryx tips this land
With the luxurious curve of his antlers.
Only to be rustled askew again.
The mound remains still for too long.
A guard, his breath smelling of mint, intrudes.
She is in the Borkou Desert and
dead teeth are without decay.
Children run between her and the glass
painfully blotting out sections
like burn marks on a photograph.
She must move soon.
The horizon, curved paper, rests
on sandy roan and a weakly painted herd.
Tar black hooves and noses
glisten through creamy fur which
buffers the unrelenting brightness.
The warpainted skins leap victoriously
past corkscrew hobs twisting on steady skulls.
She fixes on open blue.
Blueness hangs over the frozen angles.
It is still. It is silent
The guard speaks of the animals,
What they eat, how fast they run,
rapid hand gestures punctuating each fact.
Each fact riveted to the popping outside.
Her nostrils flare.
In the Borkou Desert, near the dirt
brown and cream casings an aberrant
shimmering dark knob lifts
a black bird with a pale beak.
The neck swings in a gentle curve.
The pale beak curls inward
toward the Borkou Desert.
A single eternal motion in the blueness.
Such a bird could not survive in the Borkou Desert.
The guard lifts her cloak from the firm carpet.
Later, he notices the black bird painted on the blue.
Always there.
It belongs in the Borkou Desert
though it could never survive there.
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thank you very much Jaden
yes... I recall the write but it's been some time since I read it.. lovely to read it again.
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well crap!
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tsk
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i'll be back for a real reply...
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You think I can say something someone remotely has not said already? I don't think I will be able to. This is absolute in its diction, in its transitions, in its duty to adhere to a greater form....Do I have to say your vocab is strong? I honestly think that is obvious to anyone that has two eyes on the front of their face. This rises out of the odor, out of the seat of poetry and grabs it by the fucking horns, metaphorically. I can only pass you nothing but good thoughts in your direction and I feel like anything else I could say positively would just be going in a circle. I think you have nailed this, have thought about this, and have become this....I often feel the gift of writing is found when I read you. It is in these moments, I feel so incredibly close to your writing and to you. This is very refined writing and deeply effective. It resonates in my soul and it changes my being...You my dear liza are not just a wordsmith or even a poet, you are the words themselves, always dripping off you.
Frankly, this is just "wow".
Thanks so much for the entry and I do not need
to say good luck.
;
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thank you so very much for your comment I can't begin to tell you how wonderful that was to read. More than you know, and I'm finding myself short of words today so just let me say I'm so very glad you found it what you did..
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I am glad...You already know how I feel about your stuff and anything else I could say, would start to repeat. I sort of had that "no words" feeling today, but I always try to write through it, if I can...I know I don't need to explain, cause you already know. But still....
You're welcome.
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I think I already commented on this incredibly incredible penning of yours, my Friend. But just in case...*hands ya all my gold trophies & skips away, grinnin'*
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Liza
I loved this poem. Haven't had to use my dictionary that much since, since...I bought it!LOL
I loved it nonetheless Liza, dictionary work notwithstanding. I feel rejuvenated and not a little bit sun-burned! Will I need a sun-block if I choose to read your poems further?LOL It will do me more good than not.
I did a haiku chain once separating various aspects of garden life but it was cut off at the pass by some masked purists posing as purists.
Don't you just love the sea for writing? Seems the more you take from the ocean the bigger IT gets!lol
John
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i remember this one.... yes
we return to grit and sand... we are just a speck in this solarising place... with water and soil and foam we are born..
this happens to be a favourite of mine of yours... yes indeed.....
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It is no wonder Zayra chose this extraordinary poem as a Gold winner. I decided since you had not written much recently that I would go back a year in your collection to find what I could unearth. This..this poem is a blend of intelligence, alliteration, resonance, extremely observant, and particular wording. I am book marking this work as a reminder of how the Masters write. Beauteous and quite the exceptional work here poet. I am awestruck. I must read this again before retiring for the night. Water soothes my soul. Your words have lulled me, and rinsed me clean this evening. Your poem as a finale to my day is a blessing.
Much Love & Respect ♥
Renee
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wave bands
"where were you then
between the hours
this timeless supposititious
shedding cosmos through the stars
into the sun, these lessons.
what aegis failed -- seashell,
where were you then,"
Answer : Almost ... Me awaiting the coming of your second sight ?
today?
Answer : Today ? - That is for you to answer in words of more than one syllable ...
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I am defintely not up to the task of even reading this right now... drunk as I am.
But I suspect, even sober, I would not be.
I am not quite sure if this constitutes praise. Clearly the overwhelming emotion conveyed is depth... but I wonder, at once, if this is not deep only in suspicion... for the purpose of being deep.
On the other hand, that might be blasphemous. I have to say, I am feeling very conflicted - very... pursuaded.
I suppose there must come a time when one admits to himself that he is not equal to the perception confronting... and wonder, humanely, in that instance, how much of the arugument is vanity.. and how much more is simple incomprehension.
Whatever the case, words that convey a powerful emotion... regardless of what that emotion is, have succeeded in sublime commnication... regardless of how they are deciphered, or what the original meaning may be.
The defining characteristic of honest criticsm is the ability of the critic to assume an inability to process a work - a deficiency that is wholly his own.
Given that, I defer. -
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thank you... .. I can answer one thing.. it isn't deep for the purpose of being deep..
as for critquing it, you did in your own way, telling me far more than I would have received through, this stanza fits, this doesn't, or this works and this doesn't..
you felt something you can't name.. and that to me.. well.
let's just say.. you've no need to defer..
cheers... !
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I have spent too much of my youth learning life on the tide and spit of sandbar's drift not to be drawn to the dreams and thoughts that reside inside of what I read here.
I find the opening quote interesting because fire and water are seen as opposites, you play them as flip sides of the same coin.
The albatross is a wonderful symbol so full of arcane lore and your language thick like a wave. I find it interesting that you treat verbs like an active noun when you pin it on the page, such as "arcane arrogate" Such presumption.
Still this first chapter is only setting a tone for the poem really begins for me in the "seashell"
The deep descriptive first verse of the sea and waves defining the cast up shapes of seashells. Seashells becomes not only seen and dreamed but broken and a token of all that oceans have made past and present dreams set aside, time defined in seashell.
"Stones" defined almost like frozen statues of promise, you introduce your pronouns for are we not at times stones, piled upon our history, full of mystery and promise without reason or course. Then we build our edifices and our past and future to with stone. But the stone aquires its own identity, its own pronoun and I for one cannot differentiate one stone from another regardless of the time since molten nights made waves upon this spinning hunk.
"Waves" here to the force of nature and the moon aquires and identiy and the pronoun to go with it. Or have these all now become since the albatross no longer is strung around the neck facets of the identity of man? And 'lo I spy in your second verse the story of biblical proportions of pride and the fall.
The next verse sings like a lyrical reply to the Sphinx's curse.
At last, if Darwin is to be believed it all comes back to the first seashell to cling to a crack and once swimming free begins to walk upon the shore. If this is true than man is always singing back to the sea like a child to the mother. Is this why the spy in the sky, the holy one, is the albatross? But of course you do not believe. But, then, do you know?
I greatly enjoyed my read even with my dictionary in hand. I was intrigued by your reclassification of verbs to noun state but rather pleased by the action and definition this gave your symbols and metaphors. You were miserly in adjective with shows your faith in the meaning and the value of your words. The verbage fit nicely the image and timelessness I sense you trying to create. All in all it was a wonderous and worthwhile path I tread in my read of your work. If anything I have said or done is any help to your future writes then wonderful. If I am totally off base, then allow me my delusions as I had a wonderful time creating them and hold your skills as a poet in high esteem. Love, Tom B. -
If anyone was going to do this and do it with a finesse, my bet was always going to be on you.
I have somet thoughts I'm still working on and as sooon as I get settled on them, I'll be back to share.
Congrats on the challenge to yourself...
Lisa
Edited on Oct 09, 1:55 p.m. because ''. -
Wow..
thank you Renee, I'm honored.. truly
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I didn't even have to look at the contest page to know that this poem had to win the GOLD! Congratulations You know I am an OP researcher, and please believe me when I tell you, I have yet to read anything from the classics that is this spirited. I am totally elevated after reading this and I was truly preparing for bed. Now what am I suppose to do. You have ruined it for anything I read the rest of the year, I am sure. And, you have intimidated me beyond belief. I think my muse just went and sat in the corner with her thumb in her mouth. Really!
This is BRILLIANT! This is Poetry! This is what I'm talking about!
D-A-Y-E-M! My OH MY! You have out done yourself with this one. WTF (excuse me) next? I was looking for favorite lines or stanzas from each titled section and found that I would only be highlighting the poem in its entirety and thought, nope, can't do that.
BRAVO! BRAVO! BRAVISSIMO! Wish I could applaud this more than one. I think I shall. Be back next week with another.
Much Love & Many Blessings ♥
Renee
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This is poetry to aspire to. Very well thought out. You are definitely talented.
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Congratulations!
Wowser AlmostMe! This is a unique piece, a very powerful and vivid piece. I won't lie, I struggled with some of the words and concepts here and there, but who cares! I still managed to find my own interpretation.
Funny, but I felt a sense of loneliness flowing though this write, weaving through each new 'story'.
Congratulations on winning the contest. A well deserved gold I say!
Best wishes -Emmjay
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This is a great write! So vivid. Well written.
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Congratulations on winning gold in this very entertaining and unique contest. Really quite an amazing presentation you have written and created on this page. Excellent.
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good
What a deep powerful piece of writing. This flowed so well and has vivid imagery, deep meanings to this. I love the metaphors your used in it. It catches the reader and won't let
go. an amazing piece of writing. good job. -
Absolutely Gorgeous!
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I read this several times, and everytime I found it intriguing. yeah. I know you.
Edited on Oct 03 because ''. -
in the depths of crevices made from thoughts, ideas and excellent command of the language, one occasionally finds a poet that climbs out of the dark to stand solidly on shifting sands and part the seas with imagery, ideas and beautifulbelief...you are such a poet and I applaud you
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Hi, I like your poetry. This is beautiful, keep it up, Good luck.
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By god...this IS poetry of the first rank. Duality of meaning, symbology and metaphors used in classical style -- all to the utmost advantage.
One must think in order to comprehend this (which may deter more than a few), but in the end, this is so rewarding.
Superb. This is one of 'those'.
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thank you very ....very much
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I am still in awe. Congratulations on the trophy, but more so on this beautiful poem.
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This is well written and philosophical, as it is detailed and rich with imagery.
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The hands that build and re-build.. we are just pebbles on the beach, flotsum and jetsum
let the tides take us..
it's a damned fine read 
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I am bookmarking this - it deserves to be read over and over.
A beautiful piece, though I was drawn in by the lyrics.
I have that album and adore every song.
The word bank requires working through many abstractions,
and you've done it well. You've actually made this a fascinating
write despite my needing to visit the dictionary multiple times.
An incredible, thought provoking write.
Good luck in the contest. -
*sighs* This is just like a wave of serenity - your words seep the eloquence and grandeur of an ocean.
When I first saw what contest this was in, I didn't think too much of it... but then as I was reading your piece, I remembered the word bank. I can't believe you managed to weave in all those words, and perfectly gracefully as well; that alone is incredible.
The ending is so powerful - it just wraps up this piece so perfectly. I love each part; and when I was done reading, I was thirsty for more. Truly fantastic piece!
My mouse slipped on the featured box by accident - but I'm glad it did.
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I really need to get a dictionary. Your words are amazing. It's the best poem I've read in at least a month. I'm going to go think about it somemore...thanks.
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Beautiful.
A beautiful series. I really enjoy reading poems that can connect to each other and serve a much larger dish. -
Excellent use of poetic imagery. I can see that you have a very good command of the english language and a gift for eloquence, and I reckon that you've probably read and written lots of other poetry. All in all, I'd say that this is one of the best poems I've read on allpoetry all week long.
The only criticism I can make, or perhaps I should say challenge I can present, is that perhaps you could use fewer big words and long phrases. And not because I don't understand them-- I really do, honest. I just think that when you use more words than you have to, or more syllables than you have to, it can sometimes dilute the piece. Of course, there are times that it's just necessary to use a less-used word like "Surcease" that sounds all oceanic and powerful. So, just a suggestion, feel free to ignore it completely, your poetry is awesome and powerful -
This was incredible! Almost epic in fact. My favorite part was about the stones, I seems to have some weird love for stones. I even have one that I carry with me so that when I'm feeling stressed I can rub it. I lost it though. I miss it. You did such an outstanding job on this I really don't think there's a thing I could say against it. It's really impressive and quite enchanting.
~*destiny*~ -
MASTERPIECE !
This was one superb poem, the words, the lines, they all painted pictures so clearly, I swear, I could hear the tide, and smell ocean-air, intense work, truly a masterpiece....Loved it, and will read it several more times... -
This touched me. There was an intensity to this piece that was increased the further you read. I just loved it. Thank you so much for sharing this awesome write. Great job
Soulful Woman -
high tide
that was pretty cool.i thought it quite neat how you broke things down to pieces of a whole.i dont know if that was rules of the contest but really who cares.it was still really cool.you describe things very entertainingly -
A wonderful poem if there was one with the expanse of your thoughts that come back to me as waves lashing against my ignorant stony exterior for the muse so great and my brain so small,no hyperbole this but then the straight words do seem cliche at times..and I am in awe of the words used and then sui generis a fav of mine Shubs
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excellent
Keep up the terrific work. Good write.
...............a beating ballady of a song.....undulating rythym.................god its well done.......................................... Hey, you write really good....keep it up
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You will not have words after reading this. G
Ummmmm....yeah...I have to go sign you up for poet of the year really quick...
I am dumbstruck at the brilliance of this. I've never ever heard such vocabulary spoken that did not read like a thesarus had somehow gained the ability to type...AWE FUCKIN AWE!!
If I could applause this multiple times I would.
If I even tried to name a favorite part it would be an insult to this majestic sweeping dynasty of poetic grace and unbound wordcrafting.
You
are
a
master.
Thank you for gracing the poetic world. Please publish your work, if it has not been already... -
heheheh...
have some eider and a few smiley faces
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I'd applaud that but I'm running dangerously low on the feathers and yellow guys
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this is only my first read... and i know i shall be back...
as this is one of those kind of writes, to get lost inside and devour the words..
once i've eaten my lovely breakkie ... I shall no doubt be back
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I like it when you ramble . yes .. so much is the same old same old made new in a day.. isn't it?
Edited on Sep 13, 10:24 because ''. -
scissors, papers and stones..
no hedge trimming now.. I happen to like the editor, she's feisty but has a thing for nail clippers..
as for this piece... .. I kept seeing the scene from the film where Steve Biko is beat up in prison... such powerful emotions here..
yes, the shore does pull us to and fro.. life just echoes on and on, the same sounds, the same injustices the same bloody shit, day after day..
okay it's 7am... way too early for me to up... lolololol but i am... and now i've rambled
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I love the line, as if our eyes bleed sand, it touched me
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Applause doesn't do this piece justice, but neither would my words.
This is my second reading, and I'm still awestruck. Amazing.
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"returning them as trophies, shells
which sing of things the eyes eschew
an animus beyond these wades
through hollowness & promises
more magic than their bones.
they say it has to be,
seashell,
but I do not believe."
Sighhh...Ahhh, lovely Liza...I adore this penning of yours, my Friend...My late Sweetheart was angry about attending so many funerals so soon; he said "It's only a shell." I said, "Yes, but if you listen closely, you can hear the memory of the ocean." It seemed to bring him Peace...Beautiful poem, Lady...Good luck in Zayra's contest...Be well, Poet... Wanda
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God this is well written, I read it without even knowing the constraints of the contest and it stands on its own. Wonderful work....
al -
very good
very food
i liked the different stanzas -
brilliantly done...
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This is a great write. I enjoyed every part of it. You are a very talented poet. You also have a diverse vocublary that adds so much to this poem. Good luck in the contest.
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So many parts to the shore and you have taken each of them and expanded them in these lines. Very unique write - fits well in this contest, I think.
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