The old men talk of death,
or God, which is much the same;
the women sew and smile
the children hide and seek
the young men talk of war
or God, which is much the same
at the edge of the desert
the sun turns men to seeds.
nut brown and hard
the water leeched away.
the ancient rivers fill with sand
where once an Eden thrived
and old men talked of God
in much the same way
some said stone and others flesh
the way of water to digress
and empty in the sea
where all these matters coalesce
in a manner much too deep to see,
yet some said stone and others flesh
or God which is much the same.
And you, will you go to the market at dawn?
Will you bring fresh bread
and scorn the fish and meat?
It is much the same as the sun warms.
In a list
A contest entry
- Free verse poems .. by Manoj Sanyal.
450 points, ended August 7, 2007, 21 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 19 of 19
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I`m not quite sure what this one is about, but I really enjoyed reading it. It was beautiful. Thanks for sharing and good luck on your contest!
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AND YOU POET COMRADE
Will you carry on to enlighten our vision on the way going to poetry? I f yes: viva lines of yours. We wish poets not to destroy the hazy atmosphere of rhymes yet make them visible, as you do here, even by the most short-sighted people.
It' ll be, believe me poet comrade, "much the same as the sun warms" yet not burn a hole in our bodies and souls!
THNX...
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Wow, I absolutely adore this. It is powerful.
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magnificent work
your ideas are expressed with enormity and ageless symbolism. The cradle of life, the "cradle" of death much the same eh? love this piece - written with a tragic love for the land and its people.
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i agree with everyone else. what a great refrain used in this poem. you touch of subjects of great importance, and you write very eloquently.
i truly enjoyed this and look forward to reading more! -
I enjoyed these thoughts
...."the ancient rivers fill with sand
where once an Eden thrived
and old men talked of God
in much the same way
some said stone and others flesh
the way of water to digress
and empty in the sea
where all these matters coalesce
in a manner much too deep to see,
yet some said stone and others flesh
or God which is much the same.
....."
Its profound, especially because stone and flesh...all these matters coalese in the sea...in a manner much too deep to see..... is a fantastic insight. Thanks for sharing your thought -
I have to agree with the other reviews. The repeated phrase,"or God or much the same" sets the whole piece in perspective. Great visions of a distant place with ordinary living ~ Mikeeee
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I liked the poem.
Nice punch line...or God which is much the same.
good luck
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at the edge of the desert
the sun turns men to seeds.
nut brown and hard
this is my favorite part, very well done. it had good imagery.
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This one does read wonderfully as Mary said.
Lute at his most eloquent
pretty flawless I think.
How do you do this and still have time to paint fences?
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I haven't had my coffee yet so just
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Great poem... makes me wonder if Qatar was ever this simple. Now a growing tourest industry for the arabic countires, sitting on the gulf like a pearl, I can see the picture you painted existing on those very shores. Nicely written.
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Wow, this poem has a timeless quality that I truly enjoyed. The repetition made me think it was a sestina initially. Very thought provoking, I guess there's nothing new under the sun, as they say. I really like the varying notions of God, all reduced to "much the same way." I can almost make the link between sand and flesh, I guess it's all fleeting, rather insignificant. The last stanza really caught me by surprise, it appeared we were involved in something so profound and then you start talking about groceries, but it all ties in naturally, yes, all of these conversations were had before. God, death, war, and fresh bread. Surely the women did more than sew and smile, but I guess you're reaching for the type of poem that could've been written centuries ago. You have succeeded.
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An excellent poem, which I thoroughly enjoyed reading.
Bill
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some poetry trips across the tongue when read aloud- this with its wonderful alliteration and consonation especially does just that- the repetition of key words or variations of- make this piece a joy to read.
qatar- one of my favorite scrabble words- (no waiting for the u with it)
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Qatar was the first word I ever saw with out a U after the Q. Of course one does learn more as one advances in the game of Scrabble. Of course there is qis, and suq and there was a fantastic word that Worm played the other night and I swear it combined either a W and un U'ed Q or a J and an U'ed Q usually I remember, but, I'm getting old.
I think it is the men brown as seeds I love. I'd send you some fresh fish but I think you told me once you don't eat fish. We got lots of it here - well, once we had lots but they fishing the seas to nearly nothing. You know a huge percentage, I forget which huge percentage but it is large, of the world eats fish as their main source of food.
It is much the same, isn't it. Only a bit different but not really. Less fish maybe, bread more expensive and can't trade it for eggs at least not here plus everything is lit up and talks to you when you just want quiet. You have breakfast yet?
Oddly, I love this.
Lisa
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suq? i've never heard of such a thing- i am going to get the scrabble dictionary right now! btw- did you know there is a scrabble dictionary and a board that sits on a pedestal and swivels?- god's little gifts to man
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Not sure if it is in the TWL Dictionary or just the SOW PODS dictionary. Perfectly playable in Sow.
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I was going to write a poemer today but then I read this and I thought well, someone already put a poem in the world today. Today is very much the same as yesterday. Which is comfortable because choosing between turning left or right at the gate when I take the dog out is not really a decision of mine, it doesn't matter anyway. It is sort of preordained with the illusion of free will. things doesn't really matter much.
NO WAIT- poem and comfortable?
When I was a kid, my Dad was abroad a lot and we used to save the stamps from foreign countries. They all looked sort of washed out in their ink colours. I had a whole page of uncut stamps from Qatar. They were a salmony pink with some blokes face and he had no hair, or it was under a kefiyah- I xcan't remember- no wait it was under a patterned kefiyah. Not that it matters. I tried to copy the shading cross hatched effects on the stamps when I drew a picture of my father. This poem imagines the place (or describes it) just how I did then especially the hard brown nut bits on the edge of the desert. I think I'll write a poem. Or I could write another comment somewhere else. It is much the same thing really.
Did I get some points?
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