The truth is
there is no poem here.
And all the words are purple
pencils like flowers.
There is a magic moment
called sunset blues when
all the rest of you
wraps red and blue.
Blue is the colour of sky-
ness, being-ness,
whatever comes to mind.
Imagine:
yourself turn yellow instead of blue.
Of course I love.
But that is not the point.
I am here
again!
Rhyme me and bring me love,
dance and sing ballads
of other times
when I was me
and you were you.
I do not pretend to be a flower.
I have given birth to weeds
and they smile at me
as usual
and I cry,
they smile,
it's almost dark.
The winds teach me.
I learn and pray.
Without prayers.
I need you, spring.
Spring inspires philosophical thoughts.
A poem in the middle of sea breeze.
Me, you and whirling sand.
A contest entry
- methadone & thistle ( to burn a poem ) by jaunty pill.
1800 points, ended May 9, 2007, 18 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 7 of 7
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I must be honest. At first I was a little scared to comment cause I thought: " I do hope she keeps her entry in my contest ". We are both sensitive people and I know that sometimes things aren't meant to be. In the end , It seems you have decided to stay in my little playground and you know how much I love your work.
I have two issues with this poem and the rest is basically interpretation on my part and feedback on what I like , So bear with me.
The first issue is the poems middle feels , I think , a little weak and than towards the end...Wham! You nail the reader with really vivid and powerful imagery. I could feel the words like truth in the closing. I only wish the strength was brought entirely through.
My other issue is that I'm unsure if the color mirroring was a good choice...I can sense the emotions , The way it clings almost as if it will blow away , But is it too much? I think it might be just personal opinion but I do feel the color ideas get a little stale. Maybe mentioning once or twice would have helped.
As for the last four stanza's...That is where my brilliant maria you shine. That stands on its own and needs no one to say otherwise. God , I dare say that it is almost painful...A beautiful pain. But one nonetheless.
This reminds me all in all of my grandfather before he died. Funny how memories come back. I think it has to do with the mentioning of philosophical thoughts...He always was the best at reading science books to me and interpreting out loud. I use to listen to him spin tales for days at a time...About how water could become ice if let out too long and how on the weekends god really did not go to church , But instead was curled on a sofa somewhere elegant. He was a great mind and a great writer...I miss him often.
Thanks so much for entering and good luck ,
James
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James
I took out one of the 'blue' lines. I think it makes a difference. Thanks for your thorough critique on this.
My best,
Maria -
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Maria ,
Hey there. I think it makes a big difference also. I would have to say that it reads much easier and I don't think the color play takes away from the poem anymore. I like it...But it's not like I had too much problem with it in the first place.
Much love ,
James
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The sand whirling, gives shape to the invisible winds, polishes away sharp edges and matters to the master glassblower who creates chalices and bowls so clear they seem not there, like your poem that hides for unaware eyes, but moves the hearts of those who see. Thank you precious Muse for shaping this wonderful poem. I wish you good luck in the contest, may your words move many hearts.
Chris
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This is lovely. A great poem to spring. I dislike when people blur out the underlying movements of seasonal change. Why do we anesthetize everything, even color, so that blue is only blue, and red only red, and spring only "good news"--what about the death of so many things which comprised an identity which, just before the cut-off date, we called by our own name?
I love this: Without Prayers/I need you, spring.
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I like this...the use of colours, and flowers through-out, tied together with Spring and the notion of rebirth. It flows wonderfully. Very well written. Good luck in the contest!
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We all need something to fuel our passion for life. Sometimes nothing is there. It will come. Seek it or don't. Want it or not. So we write poems.
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