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Behind Symmetry
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Behind Symmetry |
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Local Parasite
since 2001-11-05
Posts 2527Transylconia, Winnipeg 
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In attire all-but-tired and a fitting not be-fet All the roasting men aspired 'pon the spark'ling parapet Where our salivations quiver'd that the light would soon be set. Ev'ry person in attendance wore a gown of nothing-real To replenish all admonished drop of youthfulness' appeal Each with crowns of nothing-bother'd but applause of painted zeal. I recall a spot within the lot of brambles and balloons 'Hind the scuttles of a colour dript to shine our tablespoons Glitt'ring nakedly, an artifact of artificial moons. It was biting me, it frighten'd me to count its budding gems Or to wander to its lust'rous legs, and run beneath their hems That a gardener could flowers raise, and wonder at their stems. Now I know that I was captured from the cageful cast of wine And the musics all were stifled, as if cued by eyeful sign When the warmth and colour'd wonders gush'd a juice that all was mine. All the gowns in all their intricacies narrow'd to a tone That in harmony disgrac'd their song that each were one alone I could see it now, the oneness of their onelessness was shown. For this object in my vision sang a beauty never quench'd Though the topic of the evening was intoxication-drench'd In a crowd of heaven-sending, she alone was heaven-bench'd. How I lusted to release her from the loneliness she wore And I cackled out in triumph as I, through her costume, tore Casting off for her, the deading weights of demonly decor. But the moment was betrayal, and the eyes of all the room Turned their pupils to the center of my celebrated gloom Digging deep into my mercy, that they snatch it from its womb. All the artificers stirr'd in thought and grumbled in despair That a beast of virtuosity could infiltrate their lair And the noose of empty music brought the just upon me, there. I could not, with all my ponderings, interp'ret her dismay How her solitary weeping wept me well into the day For a plant, if not within a pot, is not a plant, we say. When sun was set, the feasting forks were burrowed into motion The darkness came, and sweeter grew the flavour of our potions There once was light, but that poor sun was sank into the ocean. [This message has been edited by Local Parasite (02-05-2003 07:17 PM).] |
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| © Copyright 2003 Brian James Lee - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
I recall a spot within the lot of brambles and balloons 'Hind the scuttles of a colour dript to shine our tablespoons Glitt'ring nakedly, an artifact of artificial moons. ================================ Now I know that I was captured from the cageful cast of wine And the musics all were stifled, as if cued by eyeful sign When the warmth and colour'd wonders gush'd a juice that all was mine. ================================== For this object in my vision sang a beauty never quench'd Though the topic of the evening was intoxication-drench'd In a crowd of heaven-sending, she alone was heaven-bench'd. How I lusted to release her from the loneliness she wore And I cackled out in triumph as I, through her costume, tore Casting off for her, the deading weights of demonly decor. But the moment was betrayal, and the eyes of all the room Turned their pupils to the center of my celebrated gloom Digging deep into my mercy, that they snatch it from its womb. ================================= On my post you said something about writing certain ways being second nature...and the same words apply here....you write in this old style language and add in the divine gift of internal rhymes, alliterations and assonance and it all just flows like sweet cream butter...DELISH!! this was a delight to read aloud...very cool rhyme scheme...along with the inner rhymes it dances off me mothy lips.  As always you take the imagery, symbolism and personification to impressive levels while mixing them all up with your story telling theme. I particularly enjoyed the abstract, surreal, visions this one created. I recall a spot within the lot of brambles and balloons 'Hind the scuttles of a colour dript to shine our tablespoons Glitt'ring nakedly, an artifact of artificial moons. could that verse be any cooler??? Symmetry....yeah....thats a real good word for it...poetry in motion. Im soooo glad you changed you mind about posting it....Id have had to walk there on me mothy lips and make ya read it in person Never deny a moth rhymes LOL Very cool poet sir... I only have one complaint... no beach pictures???  Never mind...I got it covered... heh |
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fractal007 Senior Member
since 2000-06-01
Posts 1958 |
Well done poem! I loved the dark fantastic feel of it. I will have to read this over again later. "If history is to change, let it change. If the world is to be destroyed, so be it. If my fate is to die, I must simply laugh" |
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Riley 
since 2002-07-18
Posts 1038in the pouring rain |
quote: That is my favorite part...this was a wonderful poem...I liked the title a lot. good job, and you still make me look bad Riley Morning mist clings to my face, and my soul opens up to you...... |
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LoveBug
Moderator
Member Elite
since 2000-01-08
Posts 4697 |
"For a plant, if not within a pot, is not a plant, we say." I really like this piece... rhyming triplets were a sweet thing to do.. and I really like what I picked up from this, although it might not even be what you wanted to come across. Peace I leave with you, My peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you.--Jesus Christ |
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Child of the Stars
since 2000-09-07
Posts 1658Ann Arbor, MI |
Brilliant meter. Not its flawlessness...but its shifts. I was actually bobbing my head side to side when reading this, and as the pace of the poem slowed so did the giddiness...and then the sorrow came...and by the last stanza, the meter's completely changed...and I'm here, looking back at what I just experienced. Amazing. And you know I don't say that easily. ~Carly empty-armed |
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Local Parasite
since 2001-11-05
Posts 2527Transylconia, Winnipeg |
JM - You're a sweetheart... you know that? It always just illuminates my spirit to read your reply, you're far too kind to me though. Glad to know you enjoyed reading this. I didn't revise it all that much, but I did go back and replace a few blank spaces where I felt not much was being said. I wanted to clarify my message a little. Oh, thanks for the beach pictures. You're a doll.  Frac - Thanks for the response. Good to know you got the feel I intended it to have... dark fantastic, garden-party-of-doom sort of thing. Always good to hear your approval. Ri - I don't make you look bad... no way. Thanks for reading from me, my devoted fan.  Erica - They're called tercets. I'm afraid rhyming triplets would imply three poets born at the same time. It's cool to imagine though. They'd write some mean villanelles. Oh, I'm off topic... you picked out the line that inspired this poem, I was sort of thinking and it popped into my head so I decided to write a poem about how human beings strive to fit an ideal in order to be considered that which they already are, but feel that they are not, unless they meet the ideal form of it. SO... yeah. Carly - Thanks for the compliment, babe. And I know you don't say that easily. You say 'mazin and stuff, but to go out of your way and include all the letters... wow, I'm going to have to submit this poem to a local poetry contest or something... Thanks again, guys. Parasite "Faith" means the will to avoid knowing what is true. |
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