Once tall homes in blossom, now dead fallen;
They lay by the spinning blade’s head fallen.
Men sweep, like mighty scythe, life from the Earth,
Cathedral columns of old spread fallen.
Hewn from dawn through the blazing broad of day—
Always more, as the sun sets red, fallen.
By the grisly hand of a heartless race
Are the living spires of Earth shred fallen.
Strong men make their living mid plunging boughs,
But their souls are, as they break bread, fallen.
Verdant pillars holding the sky at bay
Are by a destructive greed sped fallen.
Wastelands expand where mystic mist once formed,
Lush realms, where life diversely tread, fallen.
“Where went the life that flourished here?” asked One;
Wailing with the wind, a voice said, “Fallen...”
Zahhar’s last hopes with steady pace collapse,
Deep ravaged by a cutting dread, fallen.
Author notes
to learn more about the ghazal: allpoetry.com/Column/784848/all=1
Written April 15th, 2002
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lovely writing
I seem to have missed you on the site for a while now, so I thought I would drop by and have a look at what you have been up to. I am well aware of how seriously you take your poetry, but you can be light-hearted occassionally.
No criticism intended. I would not be here if I did not hold you in high regard.
Now this I like. I know I have a thing about repetion (spare me the lesson on ghazals) but in this poem the word 'fallen' actually adds to the overall picture. I like the rhythm and the flow and the simpliciy and the subtle mystical quality. It is, quite plainly, a lovely poem. My best, always, Cx -
Excellent!
You look very poetic. Forgive my silence, I have been without unrestrained internet access fr the past two weeks, with the exception of a few days. This ghazal is certainly one of my favorites that you have written. The words, the scenes, the images; everything is perfect. Continue being brilliant! -
I'm not sure this vision isn't pessimistic, there's positive things about progress and beauty scattered everywhere but poetry is mood,reflection and what nature suggests to one's soul. You've describe that feeling well which in turn encourages us to reflect. cake
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You truely have a way with words. I like this piece very much. I don't even know at which angle to attack it from in rebuttle or critism because there's not much I can feel needs amendment in your piece. The only thing I can think to comment or say is that I feel moved in some simple way, and I like it. It's a sad poem, but that couldn't begin to bother me. Keep up the good work. You're on my fav list now. I will be checkin you out from time to time. Keep it up.
Lots-o-Luv
~~Moj~~ -
A very well written poem which I liked a lot, so excellently written. A great write- keep writing because this was done with style
Thanks for commenting on my poem
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Hello Erin,
Although I empathize with you, your feelings of sadness over the world glut of our natural resources, I cannot effectively arrive at a viable alternative for housing the populus. I blame a lot of it on Henry Ford and his cronies for giving us the automobile. Imagine a world without "personal transportation" beyond the horse and buggy days...why...it could take as many as seven days to get from the pine forrests near my home in Vermont to the shores of Lake Champlain...a trip I enjoyed on horseback a few times in my youth.
Cheers,
Del
Edited on Oct 09, 3:04 p.m. because ''. -
Your poem has vivid imageries, and they are sad...
Nature suffers so much in teh hand of men, men who only think about profit, and their greedy hearts don't let them see the damage they cause to Earth.
'...where is the house that was built for us?'
K&L,
Mari
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Much enjoyed this piece. Am using it as a study guide of sorts. Next please...
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