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The Library |
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Local Parasite
since 2001-11-05
Posts 2527Transylconia, Winnipeg 
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Here's a new poem I wrote. The tense shift in the poem is intentional, so please don't harangue me for it. Even if you do, though, I think I'll be pleased you bothered to read a poem of this length in the first place. It's kind of my "spring" poem, and I tried to deliver a bit of what goes on for me during this time of year. Enjoy. The Library The summer blasts, now springs the spray, And winter’s wickedness outclashed Is violently from puddles splashed By busy boots that, gray on gray, March in the gravel, throw away The seasons who, themselves abashed Batter the roofs, and windows knock, And shutters shake as the winds walk. Within their walls, the mighty hosts Of these high structures stalk the shelves Smooth out the leaves, and fit themselves With artifice. Like native ghosts, Unspotted, odes and idylls coast Into my frame of thought. I delve, Blindfolded, as they start to talk, And through them, with my fingers, walk. Strange, unfamiliar paths I take: A word like “green” could seem to me So cropped in possibility By circumstance. Of such I make And rearrange my mind, to shake The lamps of architecture free, And though they fall, they hit a block Of steel, and then away they walk. I would cry out, if I could know The tongue they feign. I understand Too basically, and my command Cannot resolve the blooms that blow, The hues that on their petals glow, The shades that coat them, or the hands That grafted them to a sole stock, While all about, the muses walked, And whistled him a fairy tune, And stirred his sensibility, And set his composition free With measures and with meters strewn, One foot before the next, immune To misalignment—so I see A species, wrists and ankles locked Through the dry halls of memory walks. An apparition of disease: I see faint hints of pleasure, there, His crude and ragged facial hair Falls through his shackles to his knees— But pleasure it must be! He sees Some wise intention in my stare? We stood still, as the envious clocks Their same dull round were set to walk. For such they did—the evening dipped, The building’s patrons stepped around The spot I stood on, till the sound Of emptiness into me slipped— My colleague sauntered to his crypt, As I did. Busts of old renown Bowed to me, and the seas of chalk Settled, as through the doors I walked. |
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Sudhir Iyer Member Ascendant
since 2000-04-26
Posts 6943Mumbai, India : now in Belgium |
I read. I liked. I changed the first stanza (mostly tense changes) ... and then stopped 'cos I was slightly stunted ------------------------ The summer blasts, now springs the spray, And wicked winterness out-lashed Violent that from puddles splashed By busy boots who grew on grey, Marched in gravel, they threw away The seasons who themselves abashed Battered the roofs, and windows knocked, And shutters shook as winds, they walked. --- mebbe, I am out of rhythm... but ... that's me (never mind)  regards sudhir P.S. i read and then re-read and liked all that is there ... really... believe me |
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Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California |
Brian The library was a first love of mine...to see it though your eyes is different, yet the same. I could feel you there, understand your thoughts...almost know who you were reading and comparing yourself with. I always enjoy your writing...you have much talent!  |
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Midnitesun
since 2001-05-18
Posts 28647Gaia |
quote: woohoooo  Thank you Brian, for my newest library acquisition! Enjoying your immunity, vicariously. The tense change did not annoy me, but 'outclashed' made me stumble for a moment. BRAVO! |
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Child of the Stars
since 2000-09-07
Posts 1658Ann Arbor, MI |
0mg ur s000 weird. d00d this is k3wl tho. Um so. It isn't that long....really. There's a lot of subject-verb inversion going on though, and sometimes it seems misplaced. You're fancy but not that fancy. :P While all about, the muses walked, And whistled him a fairy tune, And stirred his sensibility, And set his composition free With measures and with meters strewn, One foot before the next, immune To misalignment Yep... *sighs.* Books are so lovely. You've managed to get rid of that stiffness that held you back so long ago... I'm so proud of you! *pinches cheeks!*~Carly "How inimitably graceful children are in general before they learn to dance!" --Samuel Taylor Coleridge |
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littlewing Member Rara Avis
since 2003-03-02
Posts 9655New York |
Bri? Within their walls, the mighty hosts Of these high structures stalk the shelves Smooth out the leaves, and fit themselves With artifice. Like native ghosts, Unspotted, odes and idylls coast Into my frame of thought. I delve, Blindfolded, as they start to talk, And through them, with my fingers, walk. I saw you in an old library, the kind with huge ladders and leather bound beauties and all around you enormous shelves of volumes of life waiting to be given breath again. I also saw you comparing the rebirth of the written word to Spring. I adore the cover of a book, running my hand over it, feeling the thick pages between my fingers . . . getting lost within myself, getting lost within another's thoughts and ideals. I usually end up falling alseep on my book, though. *grin* Although, most weekends, I spend all day in the bookstores with some cappucino. Pity, they are closing many of the libraries here . . . one day I shall have my own . . . I miss you too, so very much. I am full-time again, working as an IT Tech so that is why you don't see me so much. This is amazing, as you always are. You are brilliant. |
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Alicat Member Elite
since 1999-05-23
Posts 4094Coastal Texas |
That stanza Littlewing pulled up is the very one I had some problem with, specifically the 'as' in quote:. The end result was a stuttering, akin to an extra half beat, most likely since the line for me started on the previous one with 'I delve'. That was my one and only complaint. |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
You know I could not ask for a more satisfying read than when I see your words upon the page. The day you put them all into something I can run a finger over I will be one happy camper Sorry Brian, I am not skilled to give any critque but sure love those that try for they can only make what is perfect now, sublime reading! |
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Ratleader
since 2003-01-23
Posts 7026Visiting Earth on a Guest Pass |
It's easy to pass by a long poem, and often it's wise do do so, if the passing allows us to read two or three others. Some, on the other hand, are well worth those extra moments. This one certainly is. ~~(¸¸¸¸ºº> ~~(¸¸¸¸ºº> ~~(¸¸ ¸¸ºº> ~~~(¸¸ER¸¸ºº> |
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