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Open Poetry #32
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icebox
Member Elite
since 2003-05-03
Posts 4383
in the shadows

0 posted 2004-06-16 12:31 PM



I am getting mean
and so very, very, tired
the right words don't fit the house rules here.  
Don't mistake my intentions;
forgive what may seem like complaining,
sometimes I just forget the price I paid to live.  

I smell the Ocean tonight;
her scent comes through these open windows
bringing in the notion I always have to face in moods
that weigh as heavily on me as this.

I could drift out with the tide
a simple ride not into oblivion,
but into the vortex of discovery.

There is a point not far from me,
straight out to sea where the currents come together,
where the restless North Atlantic dances briefly
with the huge injection
of what used to be fresh water pouring down the Hudson,
that ancient wide ragged scar left by a weary meteor
sliding sideways into home
long before we chose what we are today,

these co-mingled
often sadly antagonistic
human forms
mixed from only half a dozen strains
of almost identical DNA,

and at this special place,
out close to the shelf's edge
where antagonistic currents swirl
meet
and curl
and mingle on their own,
managing to wind the most essential spring
in this planet's very basic engine,
there's almost indecision,
but the Mother Ocean always wins my soul.

I could be no more than a castoff leaf,
shed from a dying tree
floating on the folds
within the currents that have tangled
since before the world was old.

©2004 by icebox

© Copyright 2004 icebox - All Rights Reserved
iliana
Member Patricius
since 2003-12-05
Posts 13434
USA
1 posted 2004-06-16 12:53 PM


"that ancient wide ragged scar left by a weary meteor
sliding sideways into home"

Just one of so many fabulous lines.  Here's another:

"these co-mingled
often sadly antagonistic
human forms
mixed from only half a dozen strains
of almost identical DNA"

  I am glad Mother Ocean always wins!  Thanks for feeding my appetite for your writing tonight.  

Aenimal
Member Rara Avis
since 2002-11-18
Posts 7350
the ass-end of space
2 posted 2004-06-16 03:16 AM


haven't the proper words for this
Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049
California
3 posted 2004-06-16 11:50 AM


I don't either, Raph...but I'd like to offer a hug.  

icebox?  

Temptress
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-06-15
Posts 7136
Mobile, AL
4 posted 2004-06-16 11:34 PM


I have a great respect and admiration for your poetry.

the descriptions in this are amazing

All of my impurities are right here on my sleeve. This is Me"---Faith Hill


Aenimal
Member Rara Avis
since 2002-11-18
Posts 7350
the ass-end of space
5 posted 2004-06-17 01:34 AM


i'll offer a pint instead..cheers
muted
Deputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Elite
since 2004-01-15
Posts 2949
Elapsing, Eclipsing, Evolving
6 posted 2004-06-17 09:49 AM


"I could be no more than a castoff leaf,
shed from a dying tree
floating on the folds
within the currents that have tangled
since before the world was old."
`````````````````````````````
im left speechless


LeeJ
Member Patricius
since 2003-06-19
Posts 13296

7 posted 2004-06-17 10:48 AM


these co-mingled
often sadly antagonistic
human forms
mixed from only half a dozen strains
of almost identical DNA,


Incredibly written, wow!

Pilgrimage
Member Elite
since 2001-12-04
Posts 3945
Texas, USA
8 posted 2004-06-17 11:00 AM


You can go ahead and complain, I don't mind.  As long as you use scenes like these and words like these to complain with.

Nan (Pilgrim variety)

passing shadows
Member Empyrean
since 1999-08-26
Posts 45577
displaced
9 posted 2004-06-19 02:23 PM


I'm totally understanding here


Susan Caldwell
Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348
Florida
10 posted 2004-06-21 03:26 PM


"I could be no more than a castoff leaf,
shed from a dying tree
floating on the folds
within the currents that have tangled
since before the world was old"

And I shall gather
your parched self
setting you between the wax
Ironing warmth back into the core of you
to hang from a string
in front of the window of slumber
so that I may see the beauty
of forsaken upon my waking
and know that dying
is not the end

"cast me gently into the morning, for the night has been unkind"
~Sarah McLachlan~

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