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Passions in Poetry

Learning the scales

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bsquirrel
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Member Rara Avis
since 01-03-2000
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0 posted 08-28-2003 01:34 PM       View Profile for bsquirrel   Email bsquirrel   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to Submit your Poem to Passions  View IP for bsquirrel

I need a song,
she said.

Something to cover my skin.
Something to fall with the rain.
Something to walk down the road.
Something to tremble the edges.
Something to recall his eyes.
Something to burn up in ribbons.

Have you watched a ribbon burn?
A festive snake curling in,
boneless, smoldering and gray,
the color of the tide?

Smoking on the summer walk,
the sound you stepped from board to board,
the sand between the seams of wood,
the sun sparking the water.

The nature of the waves, you'd asked,
the push and pull, the back and forth?
Formation and disintegration.
Always piling up, he'd said.

No, she said. No, no, no.
That's not the song I need.
© Copyright 2003 MPC - All Rights Reserved
Aenimal
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since 11-18-2002
Posts 7451
the ass-end of space


1 posted 08-28-2003 02:20 PM       View Profile for Aenimal   Email Aenimal   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Aenimal

I often tell you I think your words are brilliant but rarely if ever explain why. Full of rich imagery you're words always elicit a storyboard/film in my head. Not hollywood film, good god no, but european film. Subtlety and substance. In this for example:

Smoking on the summer walk,
the sound you stepped from board to board,
the sand between the seams of wood,
the sun sparking the water.

I picture plainly beautiful actress(Juliette Binoche?) alone, soft wind through her hair, the sound of the surf quietly in the background, no soundtrack, and the smoke spiralling up into the air perhaps best visible in the contrast of black and white

whereas a lesser poet/writer/moviemaker would have had the flavour of the month female lead walking across a crowded walkway rife with product placements, a psuedopunk song(sum41) blaring as a man with a ghetto blaster walks by fading into the distance...

well you get the picture grins

bsquirrel
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2 posted 08-28-2003 02:29 PM       View Profile for bsquirrel   Email bsquirrel   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for bsquirrel

Thanks for the compliment, Ae. I'm glad I'm not a flavor of the month, but someone who can REALLY do damage, over extended periods of time.
Aenimal
Member Rara Avis
since 11-18-2002
Posts 7451
the ass-end of space


3 posted 08-28-2003 02:33 PM       View Profile for Aenimal   Email Aenimal   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Aenimal

Thats the spirit lol warp those fragile little minds! grins
Wind
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4 posted 08-28-2003 02:43 PM       View Profile for Wind   Email Wind   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Wind

Something to cover my skin..that line rocks. ha..I liked the ending

insanity is not a crime

Kaoru
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since 06-07-2003
Posts 3888
where the wild flowers grow


5 posted 08-28-2003 04:00 PM       View Profile for Kaoru   Email Kaoru   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Kaoru

I liked all of it, but these lines in particular gave me an image...

"Have you watched a ribbon burn?
A festive snake curling in,
boneless, smoldering and gray,
the color of the tide?"

I don't know why, but that just hits me with "woah, cool"..
bsquirrel
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6 posted 08-28-2003 07:08 PM       View Profile for bsquirrel   Email bsquirrel   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for bsquirrel

Thanks. I've been told I have a way.
brian sites
Senior Member
since 06-25-2002
Posts 1500
usa


7 posted 08-28-2003 11:34 PM       View Profile for brian sites   Email brian sites   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for brian sites

rushing ahead....
and her chagrin

too powerful
too powerful
whoa

damn

and even a candle on this cake---

a longtime-comin
BAT!
yessuh!

the Squirrel
LIVES

and blazing........
littlewing
Member Rara Avis
since 03-02-2003
Posts 9998
New York


8 posted 08-29-2003 12:36 AM       View Profile for littlewing   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for littlewing

Something to tremble the edges.
Something to recall his eyes.
Something to burn up in ribbons.

Well Mikey . . . have you played her
her song?
*grin*
subtext . . .
xxoo
Allysa
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since 11-09-1999
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In an upside-down garden


9 posted 08-30-2003 05:33 PM       View Profile for Allysa   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Allysa

Wow.  You are wonderful and your poem is amazing.  
bsquirrel
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10 posted 08-31-2003 03:14 PM       View Profile for bsquirrel   Email bsquirrel   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for bsquirrel

Thank you.

See what I'll be up to on Saturday: www.bubastis.com/funeral

Local Parasite
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since 11-05-2001
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Transylconia, Winnipeg


11 posted 09-08-2003 03:36 PM       View Profile for Local Parasite   Email Local Parasite   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Local Parasite's Home Page   View IP for Local Parasite

I'm going to have to try that sometime, burning a ribbon... have you seen it yourself?  You wrote it nicely, it makes me curious where you would have come up with something like that.

The ending is well-done... a bit surprising but you've done a good job keeping the unity of the poem, working the beginning in with the ending, and adding a neat twist.  Sometimes it's difficult to get through to a person, to show them what they want to see.  It's hard to come to terms with the fact that other people don't particularly share our perceptions and experiences, and they can't fully appreciate what we can... nor will they ask for it.

This is a good poem for me to read after the first lecture of the university year.  A course in Existentialism, the prof talking about subjectivity and its beauty.  Reading this poem really ties in with that whole thing, all of the images you describe in your "song," and the fact that they aren't what the other person was asking for.

Nice writing, Mikey.  It's good to read you again after being AWOL for so long.  Thanks for keeping Sanctuary alive.  Oh, and I love your new pic.  

Parasite

Faith is a fine invention
When gentlemen can see
But microscopes are prudent
In an emergency.
~~~Emily Dickinson

bsquirrel
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since 01-03-2000
Posts 8382


12 posted 09-08-2003 04:12 PM       View Profile for bsquirrel   Email bsquirrel   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for bsquirrel

I've had both happy and sad memories near the Santa Monica pier, but luckily, the happy ones outweigh the sad ones. This poem marks the edge.

And yes, I have seen a ribbon burn. At a playground when I was a kid. Somebody was playing with lighters -- it may even have been me, for all I remember -- and we burned a ribbon in the sand near the swingsets. There was this sort of awe is watching the ribbon break up into orange fibers, those graying and smoking and curling.

I have interesting memories. Thanks for reading, LP. Glad to have you back here.
 
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