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The Golden Section
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The Golden Section |
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Local Parasite
since 2001-11-05
Posts 2527Transylconia, Winnipeg 
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The heavenly stars Are glittering sparse Like prison bars; Such as the heavy clouds Are carrying their shrouds And gathering in crowds. The flocks of birds have frozen in their flight, Suspended in perpetual delay; The naked trees, like relics of the day, Shrivel and break apart for want of light, Thirsting for comfort in the dead of night. I cannot stand; and though I tilt my head, I cannot see the sun; All that illumines what I see are streetlights, dying one by one, Their hazy flicker decorates the city with a vacant glow. I find that I am terrified to see the once prismatic snow Mirror the artificial lamps, and towers built of steel and glass, Deformed and rusted to their bones, like sculpted monuments of brass Raised by a slavish architect to spread their terrifying gaze, Now rest their heads on one another, mourning for their glory days. The streets are empty like a parchèd ocean: The lively chatter of the marketplace Echoes memorially; a single trace, A ripple of immeasurable motion Lurks in the city with pagan devotion. The mists about me creep Like creatures of the deep And, gathering, they weep--- But then they flee For they can see Eternity. |
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| © Copyright 2005 Brian James Lee - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California |
Brian I wish I could reply with the same depth of meaning and intelligence that you do. You set the mood of this right away ...with "heavy clouds", "prison bars", birds "frozen in their flight". This amazing imagery becomes a feeling so easily. That takes talent. Such a feeling of emptyness and dark and cold and lonely envoloped me as I read, that I had to put a sweater on. Well done, dear...very well done!  |
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Local Parasite
since 2001-11-05
Posts 2527Transylconia, Winnipeg |
Martie, Thanks for the response! I was trying to achieve the effect of "coldness" but also of non-animation, lifelessness, the physical and unliving things lording over and terrorizing the "dead" world. It's only part a poem about experience, because I meant it to refer to a kind of static hell experienced by a soul with no hope for salvation. So, what you call "emptyness" and "loneliness" (especially the latter) were my main focus. I'm glad you were able to derive that from this, because it's exactly what I was trying to do. I'm glad the "coldness" of it came through, though I write so much about the winter that I have no problem making that clear, I guess. I also wanted to make clear the meaning of the title. I tried to model this meter on what's called The Golden Section, or "Phi", just to see whether or not it would do anything for the poem. Thematically, I tried to invert the eternal outward spiral so that it lost its eternal aspect and collapsed upon itself. It was fun, but writing in octameter is difficult, and I think it's noticable here that I was straining myself a little. |
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
The heavenly stars Are glittering sparse Like prison bars; Such as the heavy clouds Are carrying their shrouds And gathering in crowds. I absolutely love those opening verses... your rhyme speak rocks  The flocks of birds have frozen in their flight, Suspended in perpetual delay; The naked trees, like relics of the day, Shrivel and break apart for want of light, Thirsting for comfort in the dead of night. now heres a switch...you writing of winter. your imagery is stark yet vivid...cold yet illuminating-- the whole write is a poeticly perfect mix of expression, imagery, and rhyme. The above verse stands out to me for its word play and assonance... and of course imagery.. and the next verse carries that on to more perfection..... I cannot stand; and though I tilt my head, I cannot see the sun; All that illumines what I see are streetlights, dying one by one, Their hazy flicker decorates the city with a vacant glow. I find that I am terrified to see the once prismatic snow Mirror the artificial lamps, and towers built of steel and glass, Deformed and rusted to their bones, like sculpted monuments of brass Raised by a slavish architect to spread their terrifying gaze, Now rest their heads on one another, mourning for their glory days. outstanding employ of personifi, symbolism and overall imagery to create the surreal and the haunting starkness....also I cant help but note the vocab in it as well. I clicked on your link curious of the titles meaning...and I gotta tell ya...twas way over me mothy head....but then so much is...yaya but I know damn fine poetry when I see it... even if I dont understand the equation or format... I do so get the beauty of the write.. as always your poetry is heaven to read aloud. And..as always I learn from you... anyone ever tell ya intelligence is sexy... LOL later Phi-gator  It's only words and words are all I have to take your heart away. |
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Allysa
since 1999-11-09
Posts 1952In an upside-down garden |
As always, you have gotten me thinking. I enjoy how in your first two stanzas, you do create that coldness, that "static hell", but it moves on to so much more. I must admit, the fourth stanza was my favorite, you seem to personalize the poem here, throwing in the use of "I", making it seem more reflective, and adding in a.. feeling of some sort, some connection that I can't put my finger on exactly. You have definitely grown as a writer, and I sit here and read this, I remember Helium Balloon, reading that for the first, second, third, and so on, times. Definitely my first and not my last read of this one. |
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Midnitesun
since 2001-05-18
Posts 28647Gaia |
"I find that I am terrified to see the once prismatic snow Mirror the artificial lamps, and towers built of steel and glass, Deformed and rusted to their bones, like sculpted monuments of brass" Those steel shadows frighten me too. I prefer the shadows of a towering tree, even the howl of a coyote comforts me. I FEEL this write within my bones. |
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Ratleader
since 2003-01-23
Posts 7026Visiting Earth on a Guest Pass |
This one was a workout...for the reader, and I think, for the writer. Still and all, it does work, and you did say you were trying for that feeling of stasis within the movement of the poem. Not an easy poem, but well worth reading. ~~(¸¸¸¸ºº> ~~(¸¸¸¸ºº> ~~(¸¸ ¸¸ºº> ~~~(¸¸ER¸¸ºº> |
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