Upon a shard as I teeter
mystified by feet and meter weighted
by loss of poetry and soul
for "they" daily add to definitions
ages handed traditions to suit
the litany some think to know
give meter to meaning
and bounds to the flow;
did God have this counsel
on the seventh day, no rest for Maker
needed last revision after commentary derision
the Eleventh Commandment…
thou shalt not commit upon poetry
as you have upon earth air and sea
For I noticed along crowded coasts,
dead waters grow
and stillness beneath the calm, until the storms
when skies are full of the ignorance we send, rise
to billowed heights such awful power extends
back to source’s eye, fire winds from dimmer skies
ah, but I stray away, for the thing this day
belongs to wooden poetry and termites eggs within
for I would find peaceful mind in dust piles
facile wiles of open words, hiding not behind
opaque metaphor or rhetorical trapdoors
for the sounds of one hand in raucous applause
that as the world seems now to greet poetry;
for I still search dusty shelves for volumes of pasts
when trees did not shiver so in summer, and stood
more crowded in winter, and watched over seas
teemed with life; heard words given neither to rhyme
nor cadence…but to truth and someone’s honest pouring
of beauty.
Author notes
http://www.sciam.com/article.cfm?id=oceanic-dead-zones-spread
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
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I often feel that, notwithstanding our own "contribution", we are watching a world in dynamic transit from one state to another. The future will probably surprise us greatly.
Interesting link and thought-provoking poem.
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Yes, I see. And maybe the sea sees too. Let's set the poetry free to be what it will be!
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You have put onto paper so eloquently what so many people feel but do not say.Poetry should come from the heart as it is an expression of freedom.if we take away that freedom, what do we have but empty words, Ros
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"...ah, but I stray away,"
The straying linking to that ominous map,
the encroaching black, the coverage of deep red,
a most worthwhile straying it is.
Saluting with you,
the essence, the meaning,
the heart and soul
of written word.
Aesthete
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This one makes me smile, fir I agree with you 110%!!!
So many poems written with perfection, form, meter, syllable counting...but has so less essence, no feelings emanate from the lines. I rather write a crooked poem with soul than a perfect tetra meter empty shell
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Great flow...I LOVE internal rhyme. I think I got lost in the meaning about half way through, so I may have to read it again.
However, altogether it was a great read. Thanks!
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