Apollo is at the foot of the new tree weeping
harsh Winter’s hand caresses the gown of snow
fallen on the white land,
the owls ask questions,
the fire slowly dries the wet wood.
to set all that aside,
that hillside ripped by the maddened boar
that deep crack from the limbs of the frozen trees;
while I wait trembling,
the whack of the antler’s rattling,
no, no, it was nothing at all,
a sigh in the wind,
nothing unusual
the nymphs’ tears which formed the swollen stream
the nymphs in the folds of the meadows
burdened with his honor
clutched tightly to their breasts
fleeing through the softly fallen snow.
Thou must through heavy lidded eyes, perceive,
thus
the spider curled into a tight ball, sleeping,
against the cold gust lashing through his web
like the wind on a sailing ship
or the breeze in Daphne’s hair
as she races in the dusk,
odd, at the edge of slumber how the music stares
macabre at the commonplace,
the sentence served from birth,
nurturing deceit until Apollo awakes from sleep.
Author notes
Image: Bernini, "Apollo & Daphne."
In a list
A contest entry
- No Pretense by JustBe.
1107 points, ended October 13, 2007, 21 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 13 of 13
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PLEASE do not remove your entry. I do plan to give you quality commentary, and I am sorry it has taken me this long. to even say this much. This is easily the hardest contest I have judged, if you did not win, then that means only just slightly more than nothing, as far as this judge is concerned.
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You were Ovid's Ghost Rider, weren't you?
I allus suspected as much
and here with Apollo and nymph, you challenge even Bernini
(One only hopes that the sunny god, was able to plant his woodie before she became to woody.)
Still waiting for a juvenal interpretation
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I found this soothing in one breath and distrubing in another. The final stanza drew me in with its macabre tones, whilst the opening stanza's held me as a moth in nature's hold. I would like to return to re-read and digest a little more
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Thou must through heavy lidded eyes, perceive,
thus
the spider curled into a tight ball, sleeping,
against the cold gust lashing through his web
like the wind on a sailing ship
or the breeze in Daphne’s hair
AMAZING!!!!! i wish that one day i would be able to write somthing like this!!! i love it. you are good at what you do!!!!!!! congrates!!!
Diamond
~~**REMEMBER MEZEKER MYLOVE LISTON 8/10/07**~~
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"Thou must through heavy lidded eyes, perceive" You do a really nice job of the poem. The above line you wrote, I absolutely love. Well done! Thanks for sharing.
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,,, but, in honesty, I read your poem as soon as you wrote it ,,,
but only now I was able to rediscover and comment ...
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Beautiful personification ...
a sensual poetic interplay with mythology in a most intimate and personified way.
I simply adore how you write about all mythological characters as if you are a semi-god yourself, dearest Luty, and you know I love you too. For even darkness turns to beauty at your touch.
It is 3:07 here in South Africa and I woke to a poem in my dreams ... After a long conversation with God, I came online to post it, but in stead I found your poemie. Now I am wide awake.
Love
Myra
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the nymph beheld of a nympholept
who followed after eyes agape
on shadowed moons and skies unswept
of brilliant stars, take lovely shape
elusive
but a thing to see
after dim days wandering
cthe circlets and tresses flee
protean into dusk and dark
and
shape to shape to shape bewildering
time suspended
on an arc
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I'm back Chad hurt but walking.
Very moody this poem. I love it I just decided. Makes me think of your Artemis poem
but what is going on in that last stanza. The Great Game? The Dance?
Uhoh Chatty Cathy!!!! ARgh she will be chatting and I won't be able to watch the game.
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the whack of the antlers is "WOW!"
reminds me of your other "AWESOME" scene setter when the ice cubes were making noise in the glass in your poem the Omen. It is those little soundy scene setting things that make me go BRILLIANT when I read your poems.
The Sentinel - the one who was watching the scene unfold. I love the spider thing too - GENIUS. I have not yet fully made my peace with the last stanza - there is where the punch in the gut resides, I'm sure (music staring is SO GOOD
oh i'll be back -- gotta watch the longest punt return in nfl history again .. be back soon -
tis beautiful.... all i can say right now....
need time to digest it all and let it soak into bone and blood..
has an air of grace this yet cool like marble..
many layers
G.x
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monotone sound
thud of a foot
drawn near dried out woods
give me a kingdom for an axe
to build a stump
to grow a temple for the brute
where light has had it's feast
ants nest
and song is bound by roots
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.
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