Oh Nightingale, oh poetry of pure!
How I do envy Thee, devoted overture to heaven’s cure:
to see beyond wretched perspectives that enroute,
of eyes turned wry;
that which this mind, this trumpet mute,
intoxicated and bewildered by life’s endless pain,
turned lie.
No superficial laughter of a moment short in joy,
or giggles of hysteria, that gurgle into gush of coy,
or sobs, ripped from this bloodied breast in flurry
of deep loss, can imitate your rhapsody of sound!
Your gift to both blindness and sight: scurry
of mourn, syllabic of the hour; then, no abstain:
your jubilant rebound!
Yes, you are born to sing, not by own choice,
but predestined to be the harmony of clarity; the voice
of night so dark, that grips the tired heart;
toccata in torrents of high and low, swift merge of fast
and slow; shadow and light, impart.
This clear rejoice of tempting tone
rolls recollected memory of first and last!
And I, in dream reality, become a wanton woe of old,
In shackles of this earth, in hold. Yet, yearning bold
brings sorrowful sonata of the tortured soul to silent fade,
forever, at the end of May.
But forceful in echoes' cascade
we will return, oh, Nightingale, no more alone;
we will return, symphonic, on eternal day …
on viewless wings.
In a list
A contest entry
- On Viewless Wings # 178 for Lyndon's contests of late. by Lyndon.
2750 points, ended May 12, 11 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 23 of 23
-
Tis not the nightingale that puts love in its song, no! Tis the heart of the listener that imbues the tones with their beauty, reaching back through the air to fill the heart of the nightingale itself. In this same manner the Earth completely becomes love for all who share its surface. Poetry becomes love for all who walk a path and hear the nightingale's song.
-
-
Ah.
How expressive you are, and how sensitive in awareness. Your comments, poetic prose ... Thank you.
-
-
Delighhtful tone.
I enjoyed the zest in the poem. I do have to get used to verbs or adjectives becoming nouns!
You worked hard at alliteration and that paid off when the work is read aloud. In fact, the poem is a song but the odes of old were as well. The message is that from a gentle soul; a heart that is pure; a mind that is attuned. Thank you poet.
Lyndon of the Winklings.
-
Such a tightly written poem, succinct , great vocabulary, strong and true. This poem is quite marvelous and a wonderful read. I enjoyed it very much, you have a incredible talent.!
-
Whoa. This is almost an answer to the comment I left about my dream...
-
a lovely read (:
Yes, you are born to sing, not by own choice,
but predestined to be the harmony of clarity; the voice
of night so dark, that grips the tired heart;
toccata in torrents of high and low, swift merge of fast
and slow; shadow and light, impart.
My favourite bit. I love it (:
-
No superficial laughter of a moment short in joy,
or giggles of hysteria, that gurgle into gush of coy,
or sobs, ripped from this bloodied breast in flurry
of deep loss, can imitate your rhapsody of sound!
Your gift to both blindness and sight: scurry
of mourn, syllabic of the hour; then, no abstain:
your jubilant rebound!
I love this part.
-
Ah the sweetest sounds in the morning to me are a mixture of my dogs running and the songs of the birds they are chasing high up in the trees.
I really enjoyed the read although personally I am not into rhyme, form and systems but I am trying to appreciate that it is almost as important as content.
"'Yes, you are born to sing, not by own choice,
but predestined to be the harmony of clarity; the voice
of night so dark, that grips the tired heart"
These were the heart and soul of this piece for me.
I like it, I like it so!
-
Shackles of the earth is whole I liked it alot, Wonderfully written and it was a pleasure to read.
-
I love your word choice- wanton, coy, nightingale- all such beautiful expressions of thought. Gives me impressions of the classical poems of which I love. I am curious to your iambic pentameter and overall organizational system.
-
-
Justin
I wrote this poem in my own rhyme scheme (aabcbdc eefhfdh iijkjlk mmnonlo p), interweaving sound, end and internal rhyme and repetition, as birds often do -- especially the nightingale with its very exquisite register of "fast succession of high and low notes". I thus wrote the poem with onomatopoeia, alliteration and assonance, letting sound and rhythm dictate the line breaks, instead of syllabic count. The exit line was placed deliberately on its own, to underline the solo flight of the soul/poem, EVEN in a collection/anthology ... ever the individual and God ... the poem and its Reader.
Thank you so much for reading. And for forcing me toward structure analysis, which I rarely do.
Love
Myra
-
-
What a wonderful voice you have speaking written words of beauty and emotion. This flowed very well demonstrating your wonderful talent as a poet.
-
Loved It!
Very well written with a great rhyming scheme. Well done!
-
As Amera states below me your poetic voice does speak, and it speaks loud. i love the way you wrote your poem. i loved the poem its beautifully written.
-
The first thing that strikes me as reading this poem is the way your gifted poetic voice rings out in this poem. A voice that not only shows me your tender heart but also reaches in to open the heart of your readers. This poem makes me smile and feel honored to read it.
Love,
Amera♥
-
SUPERB PLUS
This is splendid in the way you have executed it. Way to go.......! Thanks for sharing it God bless ~ Sophie -
what a great contest entry! This has all of the elements of great poetry...you take the reader on an epic journey. i thought your writing was superb. good luck with the contest. thank you for sharing. keep up the great work. peace to you always in all ways...
-KP
-
What an exquisite voice you have and one very deserving to be heard for sure. I thoroughly enjoyed savoring this line after line and allowing its aura to cloak my soul if only for a short time. Keep that quill handy and ever ready for use!
♥ Touchof1der -
Applause-applause-applause!
I have a tender heart and appreciation
for lovely old poetry such as this!
beautiful!
way to write and feast our souls!
ears/Seattle
devoted overture to heavens cure!
marvelous!
-
Musical
I noticed many terms that describe musical compositions, the melody of the nightingale, and metaphors in life. "Yes, you are born to sing"; whether the song is happy or sad, in a short while it will change. I like your poetic images, I will return to this one.
-
-
Yes ...
I see life as an overture, the introduction so to speak to the symphony of Eternal Life. Often our trumpets are muted, but the birds, ironically, are to us an example of freedom in song and praise, more aware of the Unseen.
Poetry is such. It touches on that Unseen, with the beautiful music of sound and echo of memory.
Thank you so much for reading and commenting, dear Margaret.
-
-
that which this mind, this muted trumpet,
oft intoxicated and bewildered by life’s endless pain,
ah! aye i know this. fast and slow - wings of fury and sound - there is a lot going on here for one read to capture it all but that's what i see initially.
-
-
I know you know, Ian ...
Purely Poet, YOU.
-
Adding your comment:
1 - 23 of 23
