since 1999-05-23Posts 4094
Once, while in the ochre land of dream,
a raven called out to me, perched upon
a weathered bronze plaque which bore
the name and date of something important
to someone at sometime, now no longer known
save by the bookworms gorged on vellum..
He spoke deep of racial memory, that shared
stream of being, counting off each bead along
the thread of commonality. He told me of war,
of trees swaying like a sunlit sea,
of massive beasts weaving like salmon:
the herd, flock, school of one mind.
I gazed hard at him, in a feathery womb entombed,
and saw behind an effigy, hung from a cement limb,
flashing primal colors at the massive beasts
weaving like salmon below the concrete trees
swaying like a storm tossed sea along the shores
of synthetic, sturdy, eye-wrenching green.
Trampled by the boots of time, the plaque shuddered;
the raven, startled, voiced his displeasure while
the brooding clouds lowered their nimbile heads.
The ochre land of dream flowed and swirled around
my puckered toes as I looked about through the
falling morass at the broken land of now.
|© Copyright 2004 Alastair Adamson - All Rights Reserved
since 2000-02-02Posts 27738
and your title steered the meaning purposefully--and I love the way you highlighted the spaces between:
I love the set up of this, as I love the telling of stories, I do, and understanding that first drafts are often urgent, and the tone therefore mistaken, I truly appreciate the fine chiseling here.
Um, I've known a few carpenters (and you can take that biblically if you like--lmao)
but I believe this is called "finish work."
Awesome mad lovely and the gentle tone that resulted enhanced the flavor of the message--
which is a marriage between resignation and the flavor of that "well, what now?" spark o hope.
Hope that made sense. (And I know, I'm supposed to be tiling to soothe my nerves, but it just wasn't getting it. This did tho.)
Witchy wanton hugs to m'brother Alicat!
since 2000-02-02Posts 27738
came back to read again, and truly, the last verse tied your metaphors---no, tied is not the right word, the last verse intertwined like lovers.
There are many things I can learn from the way you craft your craft, but foremost, you teach me patience.
I was granted a wee bit of insight in the birthing and see the wisdom of it now.
Thank again, Ali.
(I wish you'd post this in open, not because "open" is a better forum, but because it is better traveled. I'd hate that any missed this, and I don't send out e mail thingies...)
I love your style m'friend, and I'm delighted to see you posting again, ANYWHERE.
since 2003-01-23Posts 7026
Visiting Earth on a Guest Pass
Such a strange poem....as if it were breathing something other than air....and so its voice......
~~(¸¸¸¸ºº> ~~(¸¸¸¸ºº> ~~(¸¸ ¸¸ºº> ~~~(¸¸ER¸¸ºº>
|⇧ top of page ⇧
|All times are ET (US). All dates are in Year-Month-Day format.