There is a tide in blood,
rises to an opal light,
sings a song of fire and ash,
purified before the starry night.
When the ache of winter’s bones,
calls the winds to unwind
from their homes, leaf is turned
to rainbows arc ‘ere flesh crumbles --
life brought to ground.
The heat of heart brings
bone to ghost, opens doors
where spiraled forms speak
futures as if they are past.
There comes a time in every year
when gods weigh out all the cost of man,
taste the sweat of sacrifice.
See, in the harvest, how he tends the earth,
in the course of war in peace, how he listens
when the gods do speak. They sniff
and twist the flame of man, find the shriveled heart
the ones who in arrogance have cast their faith aside.
Tear from stone -- starvation's shadow
mixed with the cold winds moan, course the path
of this being who thinks he can be heedless and alone.
Anneal the flesh, brush with flame
heed the turn of seasons blessing and bane.
When all is done as decreed, then the gods
will bring up the dragon's flame and blood;
bring in the bluster of the winds, the knowledge
here is where the world starts anew.
11:00 PM / 10-27-08 / Alexandria, VA
Author notes
This is the final after screwing around with all those drafts. I just wanted to show for some reason how they must be tended till they claim their own life and dynamic expression. I think this is pretty close to the poem I heard growling when I first came across this contest. If not I know in the end it will write me.
If you would like to see the rough drafts 'fore this poem: http://allpoetry.com/poem/4722299
A contest entry
- ALL HALLOW'S EVE & her THINNEST VEIL **for MALES ONLY** by Blue Rew.
859 points, ended November 3, 2008, 3 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think, what it makes you feel, how you are moved.
Comments
1 - 24 of 24
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Very Good!
This poem had my mind running stray with imagination. I could see everything happen in an ancient primitive time. Good choice of words, good flow, interesting and worth reading more than once. Good job hey
. Rewarded 3
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Thanks. I appreciate you taking the time to share your joy. I wanted to capture a feeling, as well as the image, of the days of pagan rites. I had to search for things primal and it took some research as well as playing with the words. Again, my deep thanks for the compliments.
Peace & Light,
Tom B.
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Superb
A very fine write, indeed. You always express your thoughts quite well. Thanks for sharing this one with us. -
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Thanks, glad you enjoyed. This is the final fruit of much labor. I wrote several others to get to this final piece.
Peace & Light,
Tom B.
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wow im speach less i never thout about it that way wow i wish i could right like you wow we need to talk more talk to me
. Rewarded 3
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For some reason I appended a link in the Author's Notes. I wrote several poems to get to this one. They were okay but not what I was looking for. Read those and comment with thoughts. I explain more about how I let the process lead me to the final poem. Art is part cognitive and part visceral, part coherant process and part a wild party with the muse. The trick is to stay in charge as much as possible. Love, Tom B.
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Yes, I see why this would win gold Tom. There's something positively primal to the beat in this. It hits hard and delivers abundantly. You have surpassed your place in my top five favorites, and have been crowned KING to my muse once again.
I get the heavy, and dire message hidden, and I am taking it as a warning, not in a scary way, but as a friendly reminder.
We are NOT in control, and we never will be, no matter what or who we worship.
Congratulations on your gold, well deserving if I ever saw one.
Much love,
jin
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You summed up very nicely what I was trying to create. It is hard to capture that sense of awe and dread that comes when w e face the full mystical might. I know that for many I may be a little to deep or require more participation from my reader than they are willing to give, but, I figure, the effort reaps the rewards.
Love, Tom B.
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Congratulations, a well-deserved gold
gifted to a writer who has worked hard to develop the story to perfection.
applause shining poet
hugs Moony
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Thank you. Thank you for taking the time, thank you for your thoughts and insights.
Love, Tom B.
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This is quite fierce in its ability to compel the reader on, immersing deeper between the lines.
The quality of thought is exceptional and then
you heighten that quality by couching it in such
apt metaphor. Harvest relates here to the reaping of life lived. But there is not a single pretentious
view. The fourth stanza is a feast both for meaning and imagery impact. Blue
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It took me a while to get to this. I wanted to capture the renewal of earth and the clay of man. I wanted to make shimmer how the past speaks to the present and we reap our actions and the gifts of family in spirit and fact. Then this thinning of the night when spirits walk to talk to flesh becomes one of sorrow and joy and well as scare and laugh.
Thanks for finding this effort to be compelling. I am honored. I had hoped to make the candles of the ancient gutter with light for the technical and leave the wax of their forefathers burning in their heart.
Love,
Tom B.
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I am going to copy/paste your comments on the contest homepage, because they are so full of beauty and mystery. They truly spoke to me.
"To catch the edge when clouds be but feathers that sweep the threshold. Let the spirits wander to complete their quests, let lovers catch to their hearts the last hand held?
Perhaps in the quiet fires of seasons turn as leaves kite to earth and jams are made and many crops pickled or canned. Who knows perhaps the gods of cold and fire will speak of peace and rend the iron."
"With the sweep of an owl's feather across my words and the softness of rabbit fur in the sensuality of my imagery, I will try to breathe a little fire into the night so the stars will shimmer and the time of crossing become more apparent. Horror is often created by people's fear of what moves in their sleep not by the truths that keep the world a wonder and safe"
So well done
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Thanks, they are but reflections of my frame of mind. I am touched, nay, honored that you would find so much in so little.
Peace & Light,
Tom B.
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Sheer Excellence
Keep up the interest and contemplation god is working at great depths in you. This is awesome like always. You are so intelligent, I feel like a babe,reaching for new depths. He has written you, trust that always...
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thanks for your support. This is just a Hallow Eve's song to remind us of how long the world has been based in agriculture and farm. Now we sing to technological ghosts and all the hosts set free by electricity. Still we remain frail of flesh and strong of spirit. Often best to remember where our strength lies.
Love, Tom B.
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You piece gave two strong emotions when I read it both times....one of the harvest, falling leaves, etc and the other of nature out of our hands ...almost a fear slow and easy.....cause the season changes and the all is well......loved it!novy
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I wanted to catch the season of fall and harvest. I wanted to catch the sense of winter's hard time to come. Then the need to seek the protection of the gods to prevent more hardship than can be born. So yes, fear and trepidation, plus a seeking of safety in powers greater than man.
Love, Tom B.
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hmmm....
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Thanks. Often in the quiet of contemplation comes understanding
Love, Tom B.
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You write with fire and brimstone in your words, yet with a gentle hand...I like the combination's.
MM
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Samhain, things coming to an end and a time of renewal. The wall between the spirit world and the material universe is thinner than normal. I wanted to try to catch that. I tried to keep the imagery of the season and blend it with the imagery of the rites and their meanings. It is never as easy as it looks.
Love, Tom B.
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It's a strong image and one that gives that hallowed feeling of all hallow's eve, I would like to hear these round a pumpkin burning bright and the kids faces as you recount the words. C
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I try to get out of my head and into the energy I want to bring to expression. I can't invent images, so I accept the crumbs that are thrown my way. The first rough draft is closest to me thinking. Pretty straight forward, information and facts. Its when I can center, become quiet, let whisper loudly to me what is waiting to be released -- sometimes I get lucky.
Love, Tom B.
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