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late november

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

perhaps it is the season
with its barren trees
like sentinels
silent
amid the jangle of bones

their paralytic fingers 
fade slowly to sky

as bakery signs
splash neon off damp tar
and stone

in this unnatural light
i grow quiet as well
listening to the wind
repeat itself

the way a chained dog
barks each night
under the same distant moon

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In a list

A contest entry

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Comments

1 - 34 of 34

  • Stuart Higginson gold member
    November 1

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    I love melancholic poetry, and this is a stellar piece. Captures the spirit of November wonderfully, in all its greyish gloom, while presenting proof that there is beauty to be found in the dark.

    Very wintry, and haunting ... mixing well both nature and urban imagery.

    The closing lines really worked well ... the routine of the dog chained beneath the moon, night upon night, the same sounds coming from its mouth.


  • tara wilson gold member
    August 6

    Edit | Reply
    i love the wind personification. that is soooo good... and the last stanza too.

    you write with such clear imagery and your poems are always so interesting & unique in the way that they unfold. often, i find within your poems, i become immersed in a very, very small, but magnified, [amplified?] moment as if seeing, feeling, being there.

    thanks so much for your comment on my recent poem, that means a lot coming from someone whose poetry i admire so much. it made the day end on a more happy note.


  • Namita
    January 21, 2008
    Edit | Reply
    -


  • sidewinder silver member
    December 21, 2007

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    thy words fill one with pain...
    leaving the heart unsettled
    wishing to relive those past yesterdays
    and keep them with simple smiles.


    once I hear you clearly!
    Keep penning on one stroke at a time!
    Bill


  • dp robertson
    December 5, 2007

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    I can see why this picked up gold - what a brilliant piece.

    their long paralytic fingers fading slowly to sky as bakery signs splashed neon off damp tar and stone

    really, good luck writing better than that!

    what a pleasure


  • IronIcecream
    December 5, 2007

    Edit | Reply
    like it
    great visual and not at all hermetic
    fresh November air despite the decay of autumn
    trees to last until spring


    one mention though and it's only personal taste
    I perceive paralytic fingers as something hanging limp (unless of course you wanted them that way)
    I see the image a bit more rigid:
    paralyzed or paralyzing or rigor mortis etc.

    rigor mortis phalanx
    fading to the sky...


    • AJ Morelli gold member
      December 5, 2007
      Edit | Reply
      i think rigor mortis gives the perception of something being dead which the tree is not... i don't think there is much difference between paralytic and paralyzed but as you have said it's personal taste...

      thanks so much for pointing that out and letting me rethink it, much appreciated


      al


      • IronIcecream
        December 5, 2007
        Edit | Reply
        you're right - trees are alive
        my pessimistic subconcious sprung out


  • ArtFullyMe gold member
    December 1, 2007

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    I've been meaning to comment on this one...

    the descriptions are perfect...
    like looking out over a desolate field.. full of familiar imagery.... and the way it suddenly looks so dead in the city when winter first takes hold ..without any snow to cover or soften how it grows gray..

    the way it feels like it's going to look like that forever..


  • just rob gold member
    November 28, 2007

    Edit | Reply

    Excellent!

    I can't believe you weren't in my faves yet.
    This moment, this picture,this mood, expresses itself on the features of the reader, all black 'n' white and grainy. I want to read this at Morrison's grave in Paris, on a foggy day, in the November of my daze.

    Just Excellent!


  • BrokenAngel24
    November 26, 2007

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    As always another amazing write. I cant wait to read the next for each in itself paints a vivid picture.
    -BrokenAngel


  • hyacinthgirl silver member
    November 24, 2007
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    nice.

    I like this very much. I like to taste the snapshot, a smooth shot of good whiskey.


  • Swan song gold member
    November 23, 2007
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    This was god good good. Excellent and congrats!


  • zochit2me gold member
    November 23, 2007

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    You sooth my soul so well...



    Becky


  • Asdzaa Nadleehe
    November 21, 2007

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    Beautiful gold

    An amazing walk...
    A very stirring write,exceptional imagery...smiles
    Peace and many blessings
    ~A~


  • katfair
    November 20, 2007

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    oh the sadness of chained dogs rocks me

    and always
    the eerie
    city landscape you paint so well in concise images

    tarred and neon

    oh oh oh
    jangle of bones
    makes me want to dance
    under the moon

    k

  • if sighing
    November 20, 2007

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    The air feels snappish and cold now after reading your poem. What amazing imagery it is then! (I'm kind of leaning toward October with this poem. It seems Halloween-like.)


  • Cat gold member
    November 20, 2007
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    yay! gold..

    i thought so!


  • ellipsist
    November 19, 2007
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    wonderful imagery and depth... I especially like the comparison illustrated in the last stanza...


  • Utok Bulinaw
    November 19, 2007

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    I really like the intensity of this write. The stark images especially the chained dog. Definitely morose and unforgettable. Congratulations on the gold, more than deserving. Cheers!

  • Suzanne Dia
    November 19, 2007

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    see, this is the type of poetry i was looking for. morose without razors and puddles of blood. trapped in that place where happy seems alien, and all the movement outside and inside feels stagnant and cold.

    thank you


  • -ButterflyCuts-
    November 19, 2007
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    wow.. such a powerful atmosphere to this piece. You weave a perfect picture


  • Cat gold member
    November 18, 2007

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    oh al.. the changes are amazing-
    i love this even more than before- it is even more perfecter..


  • Desiree Darkk
    November 18, 2007

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    You know how I always come along and pick shit apart and always find at least one little nitpick? Well, not this time.

    This is lovely. Rich in imagery.
    I'm there and I'm lovin it.

    Desiree


  • HaleyMary
    November 18, 2007

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    Very powerful imagery in this piece. I liked the last two stanzas and the description of the wind. Seemed very metaphorical. Good luck in the contest.


  • Nicolette gold member
    November 18, 2007

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    The one thing I admire about your poetry is your ability to place the reader right there in the scene and to make her/him a part of what you felt... so understated the emotion here, yet at the same time it grips you by the heart... making me say yes, yes... I know this.. I have seen this. Beautiful poetry, Al... this is "morose" and how well you've pressed it here onto this page.

    ~ Nicolette


  • misselaineous
    November 18, 2007
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    such wonderful imagery
    and the title and use of it is perfect

  • Cat gold member
    November 18, 2007
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    this is wonderful poetry- your images are stunning

    the paralytic fingers amid the jangle of bone- the neon signs on the wet pavement (so visual, that) and then the howl of the wind as a dog-
    is such a lonely intrepetation- so perfectly drawn
    a wonderful poem

    perfect really

    m


  • graphite
    November 17, 2007
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    you can write about one thing in so many ways. beautiful!


  • Redstormy gold member
    November 17, 2007
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    breathtaking

    Love the way you capture a moment. Excellent poem.

  • Rowan gold member
    November 17, 2007

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    so weird, how changing seasons seem to effect us all in the same way...that sense of , not lonliness, but something less tangible.
    Excellent, my friend.


  • mantis180
    November 17, 2007

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    Oh my god... that is now my favorite piece by you, AJ, its absolutely stunning, and So... I cant even describe it... its pure beauty though.


  • liltandrhyme silver member
    November 17, 2007

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    This is a superb, reflective write, Al, and completely nails the contest theme here. An introspective and reflective write, it portrays that mindset most of us hit at summer's end, a temporary sadness and depression at the movement of time from the warmth of summer to Autumnal cold and damp.

    The image of the bare, stripped trees as sentinels is really strong - the second stanza is really vivid.

    The final stanzas with the sombre 'I grow quiet as well' and the repetitive wind noises as distant barking dogs ( neither of which you hear unless you listen for them ) paint a mood we can all relate to.

    Great write.

    PJ


  • Grunts Girl
    November 17, 2007

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    the end to this is something i could completely relate to in my own way...
    wishing just for once for just the simplest of change.. even if the moon had a different dimple...
    anything sometimes...
    routines feel safe... some are... though it is funny i have long now never had a routine...
    doing what i did (did mary tell you i retired on thursday? having a routine gets you killed... and in a way i could die inside a little within each daily ritual
    just where i went
    once again... always so good

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