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Seven Shades of Gray

Missing image
 

 

 

 

 

 

     Seven Shades of Gray

 

 

 

 

(with apologies to Ted Hughes)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One is a wolf

That circles my bones like a moon

An avid reader of checkmarks

On a rusty bucket

List

 

 

Another is a sky like a factory floor

Greasy with poisons and weight

That presses like god's foot

My throat is raw with this

 

 

Fingers of oaken sentinels

Pry at the sky as if to redeem sun

From that kingdom of lead

Or to unleash unbidden rain

That loosens such grand feet as theirs

As the last tears of color fall

 

 

The gloss of obsidian has left my ink

Like the last pullet

In the jaws of a mink

And my stanzas sob like broken children

 

 

The lake absorbs bleak furies

That lash at hope like teeth of iron

And the only voice from above

Speaks in the dialect of thunder

I wonder what I would look like

Written on granite

 

 

The evening news is painted thus

With wars enough for all of us

And rainbows absorbed by greed

The frogs are resting in coal-dust-mud

And I can gain no purchase

On the thin breath of god

 

 

Soot falls like pollen from some

Long dead flower

That wilts in mankind's final hour

To repose beneath a slab of stone,

Colorless and cold    proclaiming

suicide

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In a list

A contest entry

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    I plan to revise this poem: please leave constructive criticism!
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Comments

1 - 22 of 22

  • ItsAlwaysWorthIt
    January 20
    Edit | Reply
    "I wonder what it would look like
    Written on granite."

    That is by far my favorite line. Great work!


  • Predaw
    November 24, 2009
    Edit | Reply
    Great read! I don't think I can pull out a part I like the most. Thanks.


  • Watuwant silver member
    November 23, 2009

    Edit | Reply
    Well, this one speaks to me deeply. A bleakness that settles in the more I read, mirroring my own sense of bleakness when I feel the world's troubles deep within. And the last line, suicide, indeed sums it up, Rob. We are killing our self, or trying to. But it can not be done, making the futility of it all seem so pointless. Death, for nothing...
    Great poem, in my view. I guess I've been away from ap for too long and need to re-engage a bit. Thanks for sharing this with us.
    peace
    doug


  • polly filla
    November 21, 2009
    Edit | Reply
    "...a sky like a factory floor" is an amazing line


  • Edie gold member
    November 20, 2009

    Edit | Reply

    you have blown me away

    "Another is a sky like a factory floor
    Greasy with poisons and weight
    That presses like god's foot
    My throat is raw with this

    ...And I can gain no purchase
    On the thin breath of god"


    I have read this a few times in a row. It hits me in my gut and my heart.
    truly beautiful mind provoking poetry in the fullest sense.



  • ItsAlwaysWorthIt
    November 20, 2009
    Edit | Reply
    I'm awe struck. It took me a few reads to fully understand it, or perhaps i just read it took quickly as I tend to do. Great job.


  • GotLilt
    November 20, 2009
    Edit | Reply
    "I wonder what I would look like written on granite"

    That line alone sent me back to reread the poem. I'm bleeding empathy.


  • Rob. gold member
    November 20, 2009

    Edit | Reply
    amazing, purely and without a single doubt.

    constructive criticism?....how?

    this, to me, is the epitome of poetry, this marshaling of language.

    "Soot falls like pollen from some
    Long dead flower
    That wilts in mankind's final hour
    To repose beneath a slab of stone,
    Colorless and cold proclaiming
    suicide"

    brilliant!

  • Michaelzaza
    November 20, 2009
    Edit | Reply
    this is wonderful!!! keep it up!


  • ecrivain01 gold member
    November 20, 2009
    Edit | Reply

    Extraordinary write ...

    per usual. Nothing much else to say, since your cheering section has covered just about everything.

    Happy Thanksgiving.


  • Crowheart
    November 19, 2009

    Edit | Reply
    256 shades of gray and this is only seven of 'em? The fires at Thermopoli will burn bright tonight!
    5:10 a.m. (damn you Ganson, you started the machine)


    yeah...what they said,
    them with the scars of tigers
    fruitful hunters, they
    stalking Gods upon ebony plane
    oh, the humbling thunder
    under leathered skies of suede grays

    I like to stop and listen for the cracks
    is it sneaking or the gnashing of bone?
    sidelong glances glimpsed withinthe lairs
    They sit, counting pronouns as if it matters

    I count to 19, west
    and waken to a gray sky
    the neighbors yard light
    cuts through the street


  • Cannonsfire
    November 18, 2009
    Edit | Reply
    Only seven shades lol i think you could probably invent more Congrats C

  • rhymeswithjulia
    November 18, 2009

    Edit | Reply
    I love this poem, most especially these lines.
    "And I can gain no purchase
    On the thin breath of god"

    I also love the comparisons to the different kinds of stone, it adds another layer to the poems depth.


  • Cat gold member
    November 18, 2009
    Edit | Reply
    wow. wow. wow.

    m


  • Almighty Aphrodite gold member
    November 18, 2009

    Edit | Reply
    "and my stanzas sob like children"

    How glisteningly sad--a tender, evocative, poignant poem. I have merely glanced over "The Seven Sorrows", but from what I see your style for this mirrored the original author's and took it to a different dimension. One can almost see the blacks and whites fading and blurring together with each transition.

    The second to last stanza is most moving--I hate watching the evening news now, for it seems all news is bad news and there is no optimism left in this world. But then, I have been in that pessimistic state of reality for a very long time.

    This was well deserving of the gold! I hope life is treating you well.

    Many blessings,

    Raven Aurora

  • StarLight29
    November 18, 2009
    Edit | Reply

    good

    this poem diserved gold, it was really good


  • rollingzen
    November 18, 2009
    Edit | Reply
    'One is like a wolf
    That circles my bones like a moon'

    that's a first for me...a simile of a simile


  • ShaShay
    November 18, 2009

    Edit | Reply
    All stanzas seem to be able to stand alone but connected they make a marvelous read. Thanks for sharing this fantastic read.
    ShaShay

  • Akito Sohma
    November 18, 2009
    Edit | Reply
    wow! that is so amaxing! i wish i could write like that


  • Howl- gold member
    November 18, 2009

    Edit | Reply
    this truly is quite a read. each stanza is like a unique journey. Certain phrases like "coal-dust-mud" and "pry at the sun" are so vivid and truly enhance the mood of the poem. In sooth, I could analyze the entire poem line by line, but that would take forever. As an aspiring English teacher, I would look for work like this to show students, as it is technically proficient as well as incredibly passionate and profound. Thank you for sharing, and I look forward to reading more of you work


  • Night Hope gold member
    November 18, 2009

    Edit | Reply

    "My throat is raw with this"

    Ohhh. How well I know this feeling, especially at this precise moment!!!


    "The lake absorbs bleak furies
    That lash at hope like teeth of iron
    And the only voice from above
    Speaks in the dialect of thunder
    I wonder what I would look like
    Written on granite"


    You, and a very few select others, are the very reason I came up with the phrase, "Mighty Voices of Thunder", as you well know, Rob. When you put pen to paper, brush to canvas, your mouth to your flute, the whole world trembles - not in fear, but in awe and wonderment at the inherent power, grace, elegance, finesse, talent and sheer skill you have wrought. How many times (and how many of us, besides you) have said, "God, I wish I'd written that." You are a superlative source of literary aspirations, a superb Wordslinger, nonpareil. There are so very few rare and excellent voices we have speaking for the previous generations, the present, and the future descendants to come. You, my very dear Friend, my Forever Friend, are one to be reckoned with, no matter what subject you choose to tackle with your visceral, volatile, virile hand. This is superb writing. Apologies to Ted, my ass, Sir!!! He smiles upon your countenance, as much in wonder as the rest of us mere mortals. What would you look like, written on granite? The same beautiful Soul we all know and love. One who could never, ever be forgotten. We librarians will make sure of that, Scribe!!! Thank you for entering this magnificent penning in my contest, Sweetness. The bar has been raised - or razed, as the case may be. Good luck, Rob. God, how I love this poem, this Poet! Sweetpea




  • Nicolette gold member
    November 18, 2009

    Edit | Reply
    "I wonder what I would look like
    Written on granite"

    Those lines just stopped me in my tracks, Rob...so many storms, the external and the internal. What a poignant write this is. Your stanzas may sob but they touch far and wide.

    ~ Nicolette

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