Absence

Since we seem to be owning up to our autumn poems this one was mine. Thank you to those who voted, and congratulations to Virgil & firefangled for a well deserved joint win.

Absence

There is no sense in this season
where leaves pale and crisp upon
the bough, and fall like water,
a sudden suicide. The trees shiver
without them, cold with knowledge
of the empty days to come.

Life’s pace slips into a whisper,

and everywhere is absence,
absence naked and exposed
without meaning.

Rain falls because it has to,
bark thickens on the branches,
the wretched land tips his hat
towards a setting sun.

great poem 5th...:thumbs_up

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Originally Posted by TheFifthElement

Absence

There is no sense in this season
where leaves pale and crisp upon
the bough, and fall like water,
a sudden suicide. The trees shiver
without them, cold with knowledge
of the empty days to come.

Life’s pace slips into a whisper,

and everywhere is absence,
absence naked and exposed
without meaning.

Rain falls because it has to,
bark thickens on the branches,
the wretched land tips his hat
towards a setting sun.

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I rise in indignant protest against the land tipping his rather than its hat...True, you have flirted with a sort of mild anthropomorphism throughout in this extraordinarily beautiful poem, but this bald-faced full frontal embrace of it is... dare I say it? CUTE!

All the autumn poems were good. No wonder there were so many ties.
Great poem, fifth. The opening stanza is mesmeric!

It is really good, but it's true that the land shouldn't tip a hat or do anything else human.

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Originally Posted by blp

It is really good, but it's true that the land shouldn't tip a hat or do anything else human.

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No, no! If the leaves are sudden suicides, if the trees have knowledge of the empty days to come, if life has a pace and that pace slips into a whisper, then assuredly the land may have a hat and tip it, but not his nor her hat!

I'll go with Jerry here. The personifications make your poem all the more interesting. I loved it, Fifth!

Personification is a much needed part of poetry in my opinion.
I really enjoyed the land tipping its hat line.

Gorgeous. 'Life's pace slips into a whisper'.
Everyone has done such a wonderful job capturing my favorite season. Thank you.

Thanks everyone for your kind comments.

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Originally Posted by PrinceMyshkin

I rise in indignant protest against the land tipping his rather than its hat...True, you have flirted with a sort of mild anthropomorphism throughout in this extraordinarily beautiful poem, but this bald-faced full frontal embrace of it is... dare I say it? CUTE!

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Of course the tipping of hats is an overtly male gesture, but then I was sure I had changed this to its. Perhaps the poem decided otherwise, and who am I to argue?

Quote:

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Originally Posted by blp

It is really good, but it's true that the land shouldn't tip a hat or do anything else human.

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But then things as they are aren't really changed on a blue guitar ;)

Quote:

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Originally Posted by PrinceMyshkin

No, no! If the leaves are sudden suicides, if the trees have knowledge of the empty days to come, if life has a pace and that pace slips into a whisper, then assuredly the land may have a hat and tip it, but not his nor her hat!

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Quote:

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Originally Posted by blp

It is really good, but it's true that the land shouldn't tip a hat or do anything else human.

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Originally Posted by TheFifthElement

Thanks everyone for your kind comments.



Of course the tipping of hats is an overtly male gesture, but then I was sure I had changed this to its. Perhaps the poem decided otherwise, and who am I to argue?



But then things as they are aren't really changed on a blue guitar ;)

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Quote:

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Originally Posted by TheFifthElement

Since we seem to be owning up to our autumn poems this one was mine. Thank you to those who voted, and congratulations to Virgil & firefangled for a well deserved joint win.

Absence

There is no sense in this season
where leaves pale and crisp upon
the bough, and fall like water,
a sudden suicide. The trees shiver
without them, cold with knowledge
of the empty days to come.

Life’s pace slips into a whisper,

and everywhere is absence,
absence naked and exposed
without meaning.

Rain falls because it has to,
bark thickens on the branches,
the wretched land tips his hat
towards a setting sun.

---

I will grant that a poet has to be very careful how to use anthropomorphism, lest the outcome be something like Kilmer's Trees (no offence intended, I liked Trees when I liked it. it is a great intoduction to rhyhme).

I really liked this poem. I didn't at first like the suicidal leaves, but I think the poem takes great care with using all these human charateristics to elicit a combination of what is happening and how we as human's feel and perceive what is happening. So, for me it all held together in that tenuous magic that is poetry, right down to the great earth's tipping of his hat, which I enjoyed a little extra because of its departure from "Mother" earth.

It is difficult to denounce a thoughtful use of this convention. The line separating this from metaphor and similie is a hair's breadth and the surgery is not worth it for what it conveys.

If anthropomorphism goes we lose the "something that doesn't love a wall"; we lose the "dove in the belly who builds his nest and coos"; we lose "the elephant on the roof" in Puella Parvula, where "the leaves fall like things mournful of the past." Wallace Stevens is rife with this stuff.

I say good job, Fifth!

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Originally Posted by firefangled

I will grant that a poet has to be very careful how to use anthropomorphism, lest the outcome be something like Kilmer's Trees (no offence intended, I liked Trees when I liked it. it is a great intoduction to rhyhme).

I really liked this poem. I didn't at first like the suicidal leaves, but I think the poem takes great care with using all these human charateristics to elicit a combination of what is happening and how we as human's feel and perceive what is happening. So, for me it all held together in that tenuous magic that is poetry, right down to the great earth's tipping of his hat, which I enjoyed a little extra because of its departure from "Mother" earth.

It is difficult to denounce a thoughtful use of this convention. The line separating this from metaphor and similie is a hair's breadth and the surgery is not worth it for what it conveys.

If anthropomorphism goes we lose the "something that doesn't love a wall"; we lose the "dove in the belly who builds his nest and coos"; we lose "the elephant on the roof" in Puella Parvula, where "the leaves fall like things mournful of the past." Wallace Stevens is rife with this stuff.

I say good job, Fifth!

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I second the good job and as for the rest of your comments, are you capable of saying no more than "Good morning" without making it something memorable or thoughtful?

I too love anthropomorphism, within strict constraints, except sooner or later it brings up my vehement anti-theism!

Wow Fifth, another good poem on autumn but quite different from others. I recently read poem on autumn from Pendragon and that was full of colors. I got a different view on this one, a despairing thoughts, but the message is really great Fifth.

These lines really touched my heart Fifth :

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The trees shiver
without them, cold with knowledge
of the empty days to come.

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and everywhere is absence,
absence naked and exposed
without meaning.

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the wretched land tips his hat
towards a setting sun.

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Really a nice one !:thumbs_up