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Open Poetry #5
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Symposium
| Open Poetry #5 |
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Symposium |
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poetry_kills Senior Member
since 1999-12-04
Posts 549new orleans |
Symposium Sitting on a low granite platform with mosquitoes buzzing in my ears and staring up at the silver-dollar moon and out across the softly undulating waves of the lake, My new-found friend Wyle sitting beside me mumbling softly about noble faiths, majestic beauties and annoying ants that keep biting his ankles, I lose my mind in the rustling reeds and screaming voice of the moon which is calling down to me from its home in the heavens – My sanity slowly slipping away, the sudden urges to stand up and shout at the persuasively taunting moon, to jump in the lake and swim until my frail body gives out, To drown serenely with visions of peace hope love patience honor joy beauty still fresh in my mind's eye, And the moon's low voice, like the rhythmic waves of the water, reaches my ears – "you've lived too long and yet not long enough, you know too much but nothing worth hearing – you are the wisest of the fools, the holiest of the damned" – Wyle sitting serenely, the moon's cruel taunts not reaching his ears or at least not penetrating his thoughts, still he complains of the ants and the mosquitoes and the stiff brown grass that scratches his arms as he reclines on the bank of the waters, And in my mind I'm screaming now, shouting down the moon, breaking his will in a staring contest that I am more than determined to win, calling upon the stars for help, to stop their brother from his charmingly cynical rants, The moon surrendered only when his sister the sun appeared and drove him away with angry chastisement and sharp words, So I thanked the sun and its golden glow and bid that world adieu and returned to my room where I slept and dreamt and woke again, not knowing whether I had lived that moment in the realm of dreams or reality. < !signature--> **jerome the boy whose brain got left out in the rain and nobody bothered to dry it off when they put it back in [This message has been edited by poetry_kills (edited 01-15-2000).] |
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| © Copyright 2000 Jerome Solomon - All Rights Reserved | |||
bsquirrel
since 2000-01-03
Posts 7855 |
I really enjoyed this. And it's showing me that the rising and setting of the sua and moon are common themes in this forum, too. Thanks for the great visuals -- you're definitely adept at that. One thing: take out "mind's eye." No cliches allowed! Mike |
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Denise
Moderator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-08-22
Posts 22648 |
Great poem! I enjoyed this! Denise And slight is the sting of his trouble Whose winnings are less than his worth; For he who is honest is noble, Whatever his fortunes or birth.~~~Alice Cary, ~Nobility~ |
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Rus Bowden Member
since 2000-01-13
Posts 139 |
hi poetry_kills, what a terrific scene you've depicted. i love the different perspectives and complaints between your speaker and Wyle, yet right there together. rus |
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merely_a_jester Member
since 2000-01-14
Posts 67Arkansas... that's all you get |
for some reason i can associate with this one i love it keep up the great work merely_a_jester |
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