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Carelessness
| Critical Analysis #1 |
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Carelessness |
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warmhrt Senior Member
since 1999-12-18
Posts 1563
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His shattered shell rode with the tides, From bottom sand to crests of wave, Then, harshly, tossed, To lie among tall sun-brittle grasses on dark, desolate shores. Nightfall hooded, she arose from misted sea, to walk upon the sand, Dripping with passion of life acknowledged, No fear held of the darkness. The pieces of him lay near invisible, soundless, under the light of the three-quarter moon, Yet she spied them, Scooping them ever so gently, carefully into a square of ancient fishing net. When all the pieces had been gathered, she placed her amulet among them, Wove the ends of the net together with a ribbon of seaweed, so that when the ends were pulled, the corners drew up into a netted pouch. She took them to her seaside dwelling, Where, when she bedded for the night, The pouch lay next to her warm skin. As sunlight coaxed her to awaken, she saw that the net lay open, the pieces gone, she smiled knowingly. She went out to search for him, along the barren shorelines, and came upon one piece of his shell that had escaped her eye. She pocketed it, carrying it home, Though not the amulet, nor the shard against her warmth, brought his return. She would not give up, or give into increasingly dark threats of doubt. She turned the pages of the calendar over twice before his return. One evening, as the tangerine sun was dropping slowly into the sea, she stood at the window in dark silhouette, He walked on cat feet, stealing up behind her, A small dagger glinting in the last rays of the sun, Swiftly, he put one hand to her shoulder, as the other drove the dagger deeply, in its deadly journey to her quick demise. She had been remiss, so careless, She should have combed the sands, Bent every blade of grass, till every piece of his shell was found, For the piece that lay upon her pillow while the life bleeds from her, That very piece had been his heart. Kris < !signature--> "Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity, and I'm not sure about the former." ~ Albert Einstein [This message has been edited by warmhrt (edited 09-11-2000).] |
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Poertree Senior Member
since 1999-11-05
Posts 1359UK |
kris short on time, but i just saw this and i have to say its one of my favourite (if not the favourite) of your poems. It had the power and interest to draw me in and keep my attention right to the end; it is a story, but not an "obvious" story, there is plenty going on under the surface to warrant many reads - and it reads beautifully ... wish i had time to say more well done phlip |
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Brad Member Ascendant
since 1999-08-20
Posts 5705Jejudo, South Korea |
I don't find myself as enamored with this piece as Philip does (so what, you might ask?)  Let's try the editing trick here: His shattered shell rode with the tides, From bottom sand to crests of wave, Then tossed to lie among tall sun-brittle grasses. She arose from misted sea, to walk upon the sand. The pieces of him lay near invisible, soundless, under a three-quarter moon. She spied them, Scooping them carefully into an ancient fishing net. When all the pieces had been gathered, she placed her amulet among them, Wove the ends of the net together with a ribbon of seaweed, the corners drew up into a netted pouch. When she bedded for the night, The pouch lay next to her warm skin. Sunlight coaxed her to awaken, she saw that the net lay open, the pieces gone. She went out to search for him, along the shorelines, and came upon one piece of his shell She pocketed it. Not the amulet, nor the shard against her warmth, brought his return. She turned the pages of the calendar over twice. One evening, as the tangerine sun was dropping into the sea, she stood at the window. He walked on cat feet, stealing up behind her, A small dagger glinting in the last rays of the sun. He put one hand to her shoulder, as the other drove the dagger deeply. She should have combed the sands, Bent every blade of grass, till every piece of his shell was found. For the piece that lay upon her pillow while the life bled from her was his heart. Just a different way. What do you think? Brad |
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