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Night Runner
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Night Runner |
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Diana B Member
since 2000-03-10
Posts 97 |
Fleet of foot in glory days silent runs the nightfall. Memories gain closing in ancient footfalls pounding pavement. Darkness hides in fear the sands of time echoing the ebb and flow life. Day becomes the wall, a reality that crushes images of the runner. Distance give perspective, peace and space to things remembered. Hills become challenges that suck away both breath and hope of life. Dreams are distances run alone far beyond the marathon, And as the past becomes the longest shadow, night becomes the runner, |
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| © Copyright 2000 Diana B - All Rights Reserved | |||
kaile
since 2000-02-06
Posts 5146singapore |
hello there,i like this though it took some time for me to get used to this cos you don't seem to care so much for grammar,do you?  no,i'm not criticising--in fact,i'm glad to know that poetry can be written well without grammar...i read this as the poet facing insurmountable obstacles(day becomes the wall)and he runs away to find solace(i really like the line about distance.Great sentence!! ).and he does succeed (Am i right?)cos as the last 2 lines suggest,even as his past comes back to haunt him,he is running in a place full of darkness,hence the past doesn't seem so formidable after all...did i interpret this correctly?if not,do enlighten moi |
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Diana B Member
since 2000-03-10
Posts 97 |
Kaile thanks for taking time to comment...grammar, whats that? this is actually a love poem to a runner facing the toll that the years take on his body and his soul...no hidden images pretty straight forward. Day the wall...facing where he is in life... finding solace...na, finds the high that carries him over the next hill, life issues and body battles. Past equals the longest shadow means past is longer than the future...not much time left for the runner's dream. Runs away and succeeds...when you are a runner you never run away from...you are always running towards a goal, a distance, a time,or an image of yourself. Succeeds, i never use that word..dont understand it. Now you're asking where is the love idea...taking time to write a beloved a poem...no matter how poorly crafted and ungrammatical...sighs ...i adore him so. Thats what i had in mind when i wrote it...but i love what you got from it...and you rose poem, i interpreted as i ching...actually went in and read a lot of i ching...you inspired me...see how productive and delightful different interpretations can be...another simple reason for not issuing a blanket dissection for all to follow. [This message has been edited by Diana B (edited 03-16-2000).] |
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Not A Poet Member Elite
since 1999-11-03
Posts 3885Oklahoma, USA |
Hi Diana, Nice poem. On first reading, it seems obvious that you refer to a runner. But with just a little thought it could be about many other things, life's hurdles and obstacles, etc. Then I read Kaile's comments referring to "the poet's obstacles." Not sure whether he meant this poet as the writer of this particular poem or just poets in general.  But, in either case, that fits too.Well, then I read your answer to find that it really was about a runner. Sooo, whether you intended to or not, you seem to have succeeded in giving us plenty of "hidden images." Very nicely done. Thanks. Pete What terms shall I find sufficiently simple in their sublimity -- sufficiently sublime in their simplicity -- for the mere enunciation of my theme? Edgar Allan Poe |
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Poertree Senior Member
since 1999-11-05
Posts 1359UK |
Diana Rarely have i read a poem which i can so closely identify with or comments from the writer which i understand so well. From the age of 17 till about 25 running (mountain running and orienteering to be precise) was my life. Just about everything I did was aimed at trying to overcome the elements and (in races) other people. The physical and mental effort to do that took its toll but I always thought the sense of achievement made it worthwhile. Then career ambition intervened and finally prevented any more running. For 10 years i kept promising myself I'd start again one day before it was "too late". I always remembered the physical feeling of crashing down a mountain scree or racing deer through a tall stand of larch in some remote Norwegian forest. I missed it. Then one day it WAS too late, and just when I could've returned to running .. i couldn't. Took me about 3 years to come to terms with the fact that I'd never run like i used to again, to come to terms with mortality I suppose. I don't know how your love is faring in dealing with the situation and I know it sounds trite, but there really are other things in life, you've just gotta find them! Anyway, your poem was very thought provoking, it meant a lot to me, and I guess I'll just post a poem of my own now from the workshop. I wasn't going to bother but it just seems right to do it now although my situation is nowhere near as drastic as the speaker in my poem i hasten to add. Sorry I haven't commented too much on the actual content of the poem but just to say i liked it a lot. Thank you Philip |
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