Written words shall fall from the page,
spoken words we won’t comprehend.
The sign of the street corner sage,
says time is coming to an end.
Ancient beliefs will rise from sand,
talons clasped together to pray.
Sweeping wings will fan burning land,
wise men will kneel on this day.
Face of the sun erupts in boils,
planets are pocked with the spatter.,
Blood and magma corrupt the soils,
creating new forms of matter.
Prophecies shall not come to pass,
earth’s shards will float toward the light
of faraway suns made of gas.
Time shall be known as first night.
Condensed droplets of salty tears,
gravitate to orbiting stones.
Whirl in mass for unknown years,
as we search for our scattered bones.
Sifting ashes and carbon dust,
beside pools of molecules at play.
Splashing in oxide pools of rust,
somehow we have emerged as clay.
Shapeless forms that are not quite whole,
filled with emotions we find odd.
Beings that have no sense of soul,
why! it must be an act of ...
But there are no words to apply,
as we have learned nothing to say.
Can't explain the when or the why,
time shall be known as first day.
A contest entry
- Y is for Yeats - William Butler Yeats by just mercedes.
1400 points, ended October 14, 2008, 9 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - big bang prewrites only contest by serenity silvermoon.
900 points, ended January 5, 124 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Nothingness (prewrites welcome) by Danna Hobart.
400 points, ended February 10, 16 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Rhyming Octaves or ottivas by sorries.
900 points, ended June 6, 10 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 15 of 15
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Congratulations on winning all those shiny trophys. You surely deserved it with this terrific poem. I'm so glad that I clicked on this piece, because it's really a wonderful piece of work.
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the world blowing up is what comes to my mind here then our spirits rising and travelling the universe. i have often thought that perhaps, when we die, that is what happens, we leave the shell and just become pure minds where everywhere and anywhere in the universe is reachable. a good poem.
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I can see why the awards. Brilliant write. Loved the imagery.
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I loved the poem. The rhyme is not too overwhelming, the imagery is good. The only line I had a problem with is this one:
filled with strange feelings that are odd
Since "strange" and "odd" are so similar in meaning, one of them seems redundant of the other in the line.
But that is a small thing in this fantastic write of yours. Thank you for entering.
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thumbs up
a fine read indeed
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One of my favorites writes about the end-times, and this is reminiscent of his and Nostradamus' cryptic quatrains. This is God's universe, I have no idea what it is about! I like your verse, you have fluency and lovely rhymes. Congratulations for gold - I must look into Yeats.
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Thank you for this entry to the contest. This is a great response to the prompt poem, and takes me from Genesis to the Big Bang and back through, in a spiral of time reminescent of DNA spirals. The rhyme and rhythm seemed effortless, a seamless marriage of ideas and form. I particularly liked the trick word that wasn't there but I constructed, mauch as we have with ideas. Great poem.
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This is amazing! Stunning imagery and wonderful flow and rhyme!
You last line especially ties it all together so well.
You don't need any luck here! Looks a winner to me
Gaylene
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Brilliant, uncompromized rhythm, surreal how my mind read a word which wasn't there after the elipses...neatly done, yes this dances from the beginning of Genesis to the last dance of the Big Bang.Time and matter are relative to what matters or what remains of matter.
Thought Provoking Seamless Poetry.
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Yvette, your comments and opinions are treasured, thank you for stopping by to read.
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Excellent
This is fabulous in every sense of the word. The imagery is great and your phrasing is both imaginary and apocalyptic. I especially like "as we search for our scattered bones" with it's nod to Donne's great line "and to your scattered bodies go."
A worthy response to Yeats' poem.
Well done,
Bill
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Thank you Bill, for the great comment. My poem is quite a mixture of Genesis and the Bang, Yeat's poem of "The Second Coming" was new for me, I am impressed by his writing.
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Wonderful thought provoking write my friend.Excellent imagery rises from your thoughts here. Loved this unique piece...mal
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Amazing
Shapeless blobs that are not quite whole
filled with strange feelings that are odd
beings that have no sense of soul
why...it must be an act of...
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extraordinary. i dont know what else to say. one of the best i've read. i mean this sincerely. love, lane
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