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Open Poetry #49
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Lake Effect
| Open Poetry #49 |
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Lake Effect |
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ice Member Elite
since 2003-05-17
Posts 3404Pennsylvania |
 "THERE is a wolf in me … fangs pointed for tearing gashes … a red tongue for raw meat … and the hot lapping of blood" "I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me, and the wilderness will not let it go." Carl Sandburg...from "Wilderness" (Cornhuskers- 1918) ******************************************* Don't know what this is, really--prose, poetry, short story.. About an ice fishing experience...Anyway,... I call it... Lake Effect On the road away from ordinary, My spirits car carrys me, From safe in warm home To a nearby wilderness. What is there, is close, though to most, estranged; Freedom, fueled by passion, is the driving force- Something pushes me to find my rightful place, In lessons taught to me by ancient ghosts. Cold has fangs, its mouth, eager to blacken flesh. Because of this, sheep were created-wool hats To warm heads under--woven in gloves to segregate frost; Wrapped, this way, I pulled my sled across the break, That divides lake ice , from snow that covers weeds, and land. The setup is easy, drill what has hardened, Pick a rig from the bucket- hook, with silver flash- Goldenrod larvae, simple, but effective A way to eliminate the grocery man, that stands Between myself and food..by my own work, I own the profit. providing my meal from a wild water garden. Winds vary in winter, blowing across a fluid plain- Flurries change logarithmic, quickly multiplying . One beomes a billion, carrried by wind momentum, Over the great lakes, where water, in winter, is open.. I became staid, in the middle of a lake effect, In a place that time has frozen, I could not focus On things I knew were present...My sled Became a blur, a meter away, and I began to feel savage- Out of grip-bereft of clock, and mathematics-- The only one alive, alone, in a timless bubble Blinded by white--at rest__ at the center of the universe. The features of a wolf appeared, the animal Described by a master, was my own reflection In a silvered, icy mirror..I had regrown fangs To lap at the constant blood, in a temporary storm; Head laid back, I mocked its ancient dirge- A song of retracing--the howl, by echo returned And lifted me high above all written words; I spoke in a communal language , in dialog, Once commonly understood, by wolf, and by man. The wolf, and storm were quickly gone, Though the wind still whispered lyrics In its dying wheez... Low, it sang A prairie crossing song, sung In death rattle tone , in the language Of Lakotah, before any Souix was known. "Hoka Hey", "Its a good day to die. I am happy to see you made no argument, Or whining plea, about threats of the day-- Know, my laws you must uphold --as I am you, and you are me. We are the wilderness, And the wilderness will never let us go." [This message has been edited by ice (03-19-2016 01:47 PM).] |
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Cari Member Posts 411 Englnand |
An excellent poem that gives the reader an insight into different lands and cultures from their own. My poem ‘The Lake’ would be no more than an overgrown pond in comparison to your lake. Your description of the wilderness is breathtaking, I suppose the Scottish Highlands are as near as we could come to your wilderness but on a much reduced scale. I have often thought how the countryside affects our different cultures, England’s counterpane fields of green and gold promotes the laid back attitude we love to promote, i.e. relaxed, slow to anger etc. which holds some truth but then our small island has never been invaded for over a thousand years, though many have tried. I note that the poet Wordsworth is mentioned in your work and as you know doubt know he was born and lived in England's Lake district, a poor comparison to your mighty lakes but the best that we can offer. I really enjoyed reading every word of your poem, great work. Cari. [This message has been edited by Cari (03-21-2016 09:30 AM).] |
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JamesMichael Member Empyrean
since 1999-11-16
Posts 33336Kapolei, Hawaii, USA |
"we are the wilderness and the wilderness will never let us go." enjoyed...james |
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ice Member Elite
since 2003-05-17
Posts 3404Pennsylvania |
Cari Thank you for reading, and your thoughtful review. The wilderness I am speaking of here is not really wild, but holds all the elements of one. A man made lake, but none the less a wilderness in my mind..The great Lakes are to my west..(when the n.w. wind blows across their open waters, it picks up tons of moisture..and makes cells of snow that drop in small areas , wherever it feels like (on land) These are called "Lake Effect" squals.) more a wilderness area..but my mind drops a wall of ricepaper whereever I am..to block out everything but fire, water, and wind..even when I am in a city, the wilderness is nearby. The wolf, of course, is imaginary..he lives with me always, as brother predator, inside my ricepaper tent. "I note that the poet Wordsworth is mentioned in your work" Yes, I love his poetry, especially as he, and i seem to feel about nature in a similar fashion. "I have felt A presence that disturbs me with the joy Of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime Of something far more deeply interfused, Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, And the round ocean and the living air, And the blue sky, and in the mind of man;..." Tintern 1798 Thanks, again. |
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ice Member Elite
since 2003-05-17
Posts 3404Pennsylvania |
Thank you, James... What you quoted is most important. It sums up the entire poem. |
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Cari Member Posts 411 Englnand |
Incidentally Ice, daffodils still bloom in Wordsworth’s field today. You may pick a few but you leave the bulb in the ground, should be a host of golden daffodils there any time now. |
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