Some Words for a Friend

[Riesa]

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[Virgil]

Riesa

This is absolutely beautiful. There isn't a letter out of place. Surely I would add a critical comment if I could, but I don't see anything, not in the least. This is the best poem put on lit net since I've been reading them. And there have been some good ones. When are you going to teach me poetry? Wow! I can't even single out particular lines. They are all perfect.

PS: You might think a little more on the title. While not wrong or anything, you might be able to improve it.

[Xamonas Chegwe]

Sorry to rain on your parade Vigil (and on your Riesa) but there is one line that is completely superfluous and out of place in this poem. It sticks out like a sore thumb in a salad. "Feel free to be negative, I don't mind...much." just doesn't fit at all! What were you thinking?

Apart from that glaring obscenity, I really, really, really liked this. I realised what it was about half way through and couldn't decide whether to go back to the beginning or carry on reading. So I finished and then went back and read it all again. And then a third time for good measure. You have a handle on words that I can only dream of Riesa. I really can't pick out anything for praise above the rest. I love it all.

[Countess]

Riesa,

I like my own poetry best (yeah, I'm conceited like that; tis least of my greatest faults) but damn, this is good - I like it as well as I like both my epic poems, and I like them best of all - which is to say, I consider you par excellence! Very well done!

You should submit it to a competition; just don't ask me which one.

C

[Riesa]

holy crikies, friends.
thank you. *blowing gale-like kisses to you all*

Virgil, High praise coming from you. And you aren't finished with me yet, not nearly! The title remains though, as it is what it is, dear Virgil.

Xamonas, extra big hugs for you. :nod:

Countess, I think of you as one of the 'real' writers around here, so that comes as a huge compliment. Thanks.

[rachel]

Riesa,

The earth and the sun and the moon bend ancient knees to your thoughts, their fathomless eyes full of divine tears.
you are the best.

[Charles Darnay]

Truly an incredible poem. I especially liked the last stanza. The power of your words and rhythm choices is amazing!

[Pensive]

It is a nice poem, Riesa. The words and the emotions are strong and powerful.

[genoveva]

Pungent gift of decaying earth,
Leather and sweat
Matching my desire to touch
What is rarely given.

What a lovely description of a horse ride! (Please tell me that's what it was about!) :blush: Sometimes I read too far into things...

I especially like the above lines.

One question, what is it that is "rarely given"? :confused:
That wasn't completely clear to me..
The "Leather and sweat" line is especially powerful.

[Riesa]

Yes, it's about a horse ride, though....well, maybe there's something else there too. (let's just say, there is truth to the old joke about why girls love their horses so much ;) )

The 'what is rarely given', line is something that you would have to come up with yourself; I hoped anyway, that it would touch each one in a way that might apply to their own lives. For me, riding gives me freedom, and exhilarition and fulfills part of me that is hardly tangible...and touches part of a sadness that is so personal I can't explain. I'm sorry, that's pretty vague.

Thanks for the comments though, you've got me thinking about how I could have been more clear.

[mir]

i liked that a lot - great imagery! but i also liked your description of how riding makes you feel - maybe you couldn't include that in the poem because it might not fit, but i think that that feeling is even more universal than your feeling about horses - everyone has that sadness about something.

[Riesa]

Thanks mir, for your kind comments.
I just drank some more coffee and thought about genoveva's question some more.
What I think I mean...:D, Is this: wanting something so badly in this life, that I'll just never have, but everyonce in a while getting a taste of what it might be like to actually have it.

[mir]

complete freedom? having no worries, or not having to think of anything but the present? or am i completely misinterpreting?

[Riesa]

Well, It's personal, what I'm thinking of...
But what is it that you'd want?

[mir]

i don't know . . . part of it for me is just wanting to be somewhere else, with nothing to worry about and nothing to have to prove. it's wanting not to be judged, or put down, or to constantly have to be something so someone else will think well of you. we'll never have wings, but we never stop wanting to fly.

[Riesa]

Beautifully put. and right-on..:)

[mir]

The air sighs music.

Or perhaps it is the waves –
Beating rhythmically
Upon an unaffected shore.
No – all is the song.
Air, and waves, and
Even the shifting of sand, as tiny crabs skulk the beach
Hunting for food.
We have tried to capture the sound
In artificial tubes,
Metal cages and
Wooden prisons.
But somehow –
It is still most beautiful here
Where moon, sand and waves
Cooperate in an infinite concerto
Dedicated to the stars.

yeah, yours was better. dang. give me a year or two and i'll get it right.

[Riesa]

Hey, that deserve's a thread of it's own, mir. Wow.

[mir]

: )
thanks. interesting what you can do with too much caffeine.

[Dirt McKert]

wow. omg. that was an amazing poem.
your structure and form
and word choice are magnificent.

you're an amazing poet.

[mir]

yay Riesa!! wow, i haven't looked at this thread for a long time. hi dirt, and since i haven't seen you, welcome!

[Dirt McKert]

thank you! i just arrived today.
and i'm lovin it here

[Xamonas Chegwe]

Thanks for dragging this one back to the surface Dirt. I haven't read it for a while either (slaps self on back of hand). It's probably my favourite by Riesa.

Did you ever start your own thread for that poem mir? It is rather good - I think it would flower better if removed from the shadow of Riesa's killer epic though. :D

[mir]

no . . . i don't even think i have it written down anywhere but on this forum. but i guess i can start a thread on it. just a moment . . .