I am here

[atiguhya padma]

I am here to tell of the common injustices
From those of whom you would least expect.

I am here to speak of those who speak of love
And yet isolate, and separate, and make desolate

I am here to argue causes many wish were hidden
And silent, and unwritten, and impotent.

I am here like one lonely in a wilderness

I am here like a fading star that shines blue

I am here because you are here

I am here.

[Waendoliel]

Not bad...

[atiguhya padma]

Thanks Waendoliel.

Welcome to this site.

It sometimes feels a little like a theocracy, and a little like Dogville round here, but still it's not a bad place to be.

Atiguhya Padma

[Waendoliel]

Well, that is comforting to hear ;-)

[the ring]

:) nice.

[Isagel]

This feels like a warcry from somebody once lost and betrayed. Revenge by spelling it out. Like a song before a battle. A proclamation, and a clear stand for the ones hurt and desolate.


Still - to make this poem touch the reader even more deeply, I would suggest some kind of "build up" before the main point.

I would almost turn it round and start with the last lines.
Hope you do not think I´m butchering your poem.

[atiguhya padma]

Isagel,

Thank you for your comments.

I wrote this poem in the space of a few minutes, as a response to an overwhelming feeling that I had to justify my presence on this site. If only to myself. It was also inspired by the belief that one of the few people I really wanted to develop conversations with here, was more than likely going to quit the site.

It is not a good poem. It is one of those poems I sometimes write just for therapeutic reasons, you know, like getting it out of your system. However, it is definitely not a warcry! (I'm a pacifist!)

It is more about defence, justification, anguish. I probably had Whitman in mind when I wrote it. One of its many weaknesses, is it's detached nature from its subject. It hardly reads like an angry passionate voice. It is a mask of indifference, that hides a face of disappointment.

I could have built the poem up. but this would have changed the nature of the process, the activity. And for me, it is the process of poetry that really matters. I have written much in the past, that was far better than this, that I have just scrunched up and thrown in a waste paper basket, once it had served it's purpose. In this case, I wanted to leave my anguish here. I wanted this site to be my garbage bin. In this sense, the last line and its repetition throughout the poem is ambiguous (Sorry everyone, for littering up your driveways:)) ha ha!

[Isagel]

Yes, I thuoght that was the case. But I also think that this could be a very good piece of poetry if you wanted to work on it a bit.

Then it could have a new purpose.

[amuse]

i just read it. it's spare, and i think says enough by saying little. it sounds hurt, as if needy arms are outstretched, holding nothing but cold air at nighttime. i think we've all felt that chill.

as for the wording, i like this part:


I am here like a fading star that shines blue

[psycojones]

ap, i don't know if it means anything coming from me, but i liked it. in my eyes, poetry is very personal, and can not be corrected. it would be like telling someone that they are not feeling the way they should and maybe it would be better if they can change their feelings. as long as you put your feelings to words, what else can you do. i enjoyed it.

[atiguhya padma]

Amuse,

Thanks for your comments. You have a perceptive eye for the wording.

Psycojones,

Of course it means something coming from you! I have enjoyed reading your posts, and I like your attitude, and your humour. It makes me happy to think that you enjoyed it. I think you are right about poetry that is personal - you shouldn't mess with it. But there is also poetry that is more detached. That kind of poetry I do revisit, and edit. That is the kind of poetry I tend to keep, because I feel that it will outlive the mood that inspired it.

[Sindhu]

The personal poetry folder is one on which I have kept my comments to a minimum- I somehow feel very diffident here. Maybe partly because I feel very strongly about the "therapeautic" and "personal nature" of poetry and I feel I'm butting in when commenting- if the poet chooses to rewrite and perfect and the poem is thus improved, then the reader has all the more cause to be pleased but none to demand the process as a right. Sorry, I got away from the topic there- but a chance to state my credo was irresistable!:)

Back on topic- I really liked this poem- technically. Emotionally, it hurts. Especially the lines

Originally posted by atiguhya padma
I am here to argue causes many wish were hidden
And silent, and unwritten, and impotent.

I don't know if this is the effect ap intended, but what I felt was the growing conviction that the causes referred to ARE hidden, silent etc and no amount of Being there by anyone could change that. And that the persona in the poem as well as the auditor are both perfectly aware of this and yet takes a stand with a kind of last throw courage.

[Dyrwen]

I give 2 metaphorical non existent thumbs up.

Nice short work.

[Sancho]

A.P. the depth of your knowledge and the breath of your talents continues to floor me and I’m still crackin’ up over that Zolan getting his nuts pinched thing. Poetry is an area of literary study that I have badly neglected, but I’m working on it.

[atiguhya padma]

Thanks Sancho.

Glad you liked Zoltan's exploits.

AP

[atiguhya padma]

Sancho,

Glad to hear your working on it. It can be great fun, extremely frustrating and completely chilled out, the writing of poetry, and sometimes all three at the same time! Be nice to see some of your efforts.

AP

[Sancho]

AP, sorry to be so long getting back to you. Been on the road for a couple weeks trying to make a living. Life would be so much simpler without bills.
I’m really just working on understanding poetry, I’ve never attempted to write serious poetry (just some embarrassing love songs to my wife and a few songs about my dog for the nieces and nephews – makes them squeal and run away while clutching their little ears.) I believe that you are exactly correct when you say that it is great fun, frustrating and completely chilled out. I’d add that reading poetry is much the same. I’m starting to believe that reading poetry is a bit of an art-form in and of itself. You may disagree, but it seems to me (so far) that poetry brings the reader closer to the artist than in any other literary art form. Which is to say within a drama or even a narrative the reader can mostly remain a spectator; not so with poetry.
As a North American, I’ve enjoyed Whitman’s “Leaves of Grass.” I particularly liked the way he tried to reach out to readers he knew would be reading the poem after his death. As a former Alaskan, I’ve enjoyed the frontier poetry of Robert Service: “Twas the night on the Marge of Lake Labarge that I cremated Sam Magee.” Heh heh. I’m working on Shakespeare’s sonnets. I think I’ll skip the wedding sonnet (heard that one enough already)