My name is mountain lying down,
Hopi script of such a canyon,
where pictographs
paint Coconino cracks
in Anasazi words of Supai spirit
to pulse forever.
I did walk this Bright Angel Trail
in color creating path,
cleaving body,
as step not taken
to come in space where Hermit's time
is endless journey.
I did breathe
when lungs were dry,
a greater dust
to treasure tolerance,
in fragmented files
of rock to treasure place
where art is word in wave of wilderness
etching dream,
beginning slowly,
these secret places,
deep in well
where bones brave blue
in sky to gather feathers,
as raven shadow passes higher
than every dream
of eagle rising.
I did so sing of Arizona
in finger strolling string
to echo home,
as poem brewing,
on Morning's rim
of rising cloud
below my lips
in kissing earth,
when tear did fill my pain
in pinion nuts,
and Utah juniper
sighing higher plateau
to ponder portrait,
as words rolling noise
in distant thunder
against my folded parchment
of soulful scream,
inside my jacket of dirty jeans
from such a place
to find my name,
as Kaibab.
Author notes
My poetry has a certain sound to it. This poem was written about April 15th, this year...and is one that centered my ear to hear the sound in a more concise pattern of beat, while at the same time finding an identity that was pure as wind to breathe her words.
This poem also dealt with the subject matter of re-affirming my soul's true nature, and to write from a place of honest committment.
Kaibab
In a list
A contest entry
- The Scribe - One Day Contest by CarolDesjarlais.
525 points, ended April 18, 2007, 10 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - My Favorites Only (please enter, you don't have to do much at all!) by Dienush.
2300 points, ended November 1, 2007, 11 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 10 of 10
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You are write about your poetry - I could recognize your style anytime. And this poem is particularly complex and it does sound very much like finding oneself. Thank you for entering.
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Amazing
This is amazing Rich. Every word and every sentece captivated me! I think I read and re-read this over a million times...Wonderful! (Congrats on the trophy)..Cath
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What an incredible write, pen friend....I am honored to have you submit it to this contest...it is powerful and poignant.
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This is beautiful, I am actually speechless here, lol.
as words rolling noise
in distant thunder
against my folded parchment
of soulful scream,
Those lines...sigh...amazing!
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Pêyabtibk! Incomparable poetry which is a natural to you The images comes from many directions. Like creating individuality that is ours alone in human destiny and the mark of your own originality. A very holistic poem Individuality as the most creative choices in personal freedom. Love these lines - I did breathe, when lungs were dry,
a greater dust
to treasure tolerance,
In healing circles, love and tolerance are very much spiritual reality and existence. Regards
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I agree with Wanda...you are one of the most natural writers (scribes) that I have encountered. The words just seem to roll from your pen...just like the rolling hills and valleys of your native country. This poem is so very you, filled with the native indian culture, with nature, with soul, music and song - and yes, of course with poetry. Wonderful, inspiring poetry, scribe of the mountains.
~ Nicolette
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"as words rolling noise
in distant thunder
against my folded parchment
of soulful scream,
inside my jacket of dirty jeans
from such a place
to find my name,
as Kaibab."
Sighhh...Damn. This is my newest favorite of yours, Rich. What an immaculate penning this is, dear Scribe of the Mountains...Indeed, you ARE the Scribe, my Friend...One of the best writers, most natural writers, I've had the good fortune to encounter...Carol's gonna love this one, Sweetie...I sure do...Good luck in the contest...
Wanda
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Signed in Soul
Wind meadow, Master of the Mountain
From Raven's wing know color's fountain
Word was so: art, form, and wonder
Still Small Voice rolled like thunder
Earth kiss fell to heart as rain
In arid desert, His bloom to gain
Azure crown, thrones bluer majesty
transcends sanguine manmade travesty
In clearer view of Spirit's call
Points equidistant, seasons fall
Bright Angel Trail, paths, grass and slab
Primordial signature, ONE...Kaibab
(You canyons echo songs for heart and nature. ~K)
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this is beautiful.
'against my folded parchment
of soulful scream,
inside my jacket of dirty jeans'
this part really speaks to me...
well it all does, but tht part more.
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This takes one into the mystic of native american nature and lore, it is beautifully penned and the place you describe sounds amazing for its inspiration alone. Love, C
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