a furious red lake waves capped in pink foam
the life bursting from it in endless form.
the sky, scarlet, dripping red rain from chocolate clouds.
the shadowed nymphs rush to their reed huts; crouch down,
huddled, in mystic circle passing the spirit beads in silent ritual
round.their eyes in quiet prayer as the rain drips from the rushes
forms red rivulets and streams in gleaming necklaces
gratefully to the bleeding ground: a firefall;
as if cascading electrons were crashing in conflict,
vying for supremacy, disquieting in structure.
Which induced the fatal cracking in the scripture
therefore no rule was quoted when the structure failed,
as in random matrimony the lights going on and off
a prenatal chaos awash in moisture,
a whore within the sanctity abhors the chastity
suddenly sucked back to the village standing in a scarlet square
and they, mauve and trembling at joyous despair
finding the gray dawn washed out of them, said
the words were just more bleached bones on a complicated shore.
Author notes
Written July 31st, 2003
In a list
A contest entry
- dreamscape by porphyry.
450 points, ended July 31, 2007, 11 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
1 - 17 of 17
-
yes. i remember this one -- you've been reaching for that cubist poetry for quite while
that's at least 3 now.
morning u.
-
Congrats!
-
wowww!
shadowed nymphs, prenatal chaos awash in moisture
there is a lot happening here, love the language
the rhymes that are practically unnoticeable, the way i like them
and especially those last two lines really do incredible things for me
-
I remembered what I forgot to say. This reminds of Fantasia.
-Toccata and Fugue in D Minor by Johann Sebastian Bach
-The Nutcracker Suite by Piotr Ilich Tchaikovsky
-The Sorcerer's Apprentice by Paul Dukas
-The Rite of Spring by Igor Stravinsky
-The Pastoral Symphony by Ludwig van Beethoven
-Dance of the Hours by Amilcare Ponchielli
-Night on Bald Mountain by Modeste Moussorgsky
-Ave Maria by Franz Shubert
Also Fantasia means something -- I forget exactly now but I think it means ... composer that strays from original composition or something. When Sammy was a baby - it was his favorite Disney Movie. But we never made it all the way through in an afternoon, both of us would fall asleep and wake up not anywhere near where we left off.
-
interesting
I am in general a fan of slant rhyme, but only when done well. Prime examples are on display here. The contrast and transitions between the furious reds and scarlet to the gray dawn and bleached bones.
This seems to me a bit biblical, like Armegeddon or maybe just a floating hell, passing over the land. Was it meant to be? -
I liked the last lines the best. That was cool. It really is a complicated shore after all. It's a good poem.
-
Very beautiful! I had a bit of a hard time getting into it, but by the last have you had me enraptured. "a prenatal chaos" was especially brilliant. A light topic in an unfortunate event. It flowed nicely and kept my attention to the end. Exactly what you want a poem to do!
~*~*~*~
K
-
This reminds me that Art is to be experienced - it does not have to be understood. And it also reminds me that Billy Collins poem Introduction to Poetry of which I've shared a number of times. While it isn't heavy with the philosophy of Art - it does help to remind us.
I ask them to take a poem
and hold it up to the light
like a color slide
or press an ear against its hive.
I say drop a mouse into a poem
and watch him probe his way out,
or walk inside the poem's room
and feel the walls for a light switch.
I want them to water ski
across the surface of a poem
waving at the author's name on the shore
(Hi Lute!)
But all they want to do
is tie the poem to a chair with a rope
and torture a confession out of it.
They begin beating it with a hose
to find out what it really means.
This has a primordial feel -- reminds me of U2 lyrics all the colors bleed into one -- and yet how separate I see the chocolate clouds and the sad trembling of mauve.
Cool poem to bring out from the archives.
-
it's a good piece of writing, but it feels the adjectives and descriptives may be bleeding your nouns. I tend to over-adjective everything in first draft, then go back and remove them all and then try to either build the nouns themselves to non-passive words or only use the adjectives which are absolutely necessary to enhance the image. I realize "painting" in itself is part of the poem's title, but in my opinion it may be too much color-plays at the onset of this poem that really aren't the most powerful word-plays.
overall, I'm glad I was able to read this poem.
Jo
-
cool
Beautifully written . man has a chaotic nature . something we all try t o run from . some embrace it . and some let it control them . awesome poem . -
Well worded.
-
Wow, this is nice. It's a lively poem that is worth reading many times; full of chaos and misery.
-
Guess some of us were colorful in our poetry yesterday.
I loved the imagery. Kind of dark in a manner. With the way it is written, it can have many different meanings depending on the reader's mood, personal experiences, etc.
Mandrake -
I dig the color scheme. I think you should format this so it flows a bit better. I think you should say, prenatural chaos.
-
That's the way of it Sundays are blue sometimes.
Wonderfully descriptive and the last two lines leave the brain tripping over trails.
Jules. -
wow
Symphony of Destruction, here comes the rain again. Boy, the things we do to ourselves. Your poems have left me thinking. Confused, amused, and going to bed. Sweet dreams. Good night dear friend, Lute.
Keep Feelin' Fascination,
~Tiffany~ -
terrific...
my thoughts...
great despair and misfortune are some of the greatest muses... the later half of the poem I got this feeling of the destruction of Sodom and Gomorra (sp?)... and what was thought by those if any that survived... or maybe the perpetual thoughts of those who gave pity and turned to stone...
the flow is one to be admired... I must say...
good stuff...
Doug
Adding your comment:
1 - 17 of 17
