Between drops

[symphony]

...Between Drops

The moon like a hole in a perfectly black enclosure
was his only link to the outer universe.
It meant there was a sky, a night, nightly stars…
but it always was the outer verse,
always the distant song, the different story--
it became to him the essence of a dream.
He lay face-first, on the cold bottle-green,
smelled the cold earth, the mandatory home.
Then turned over, lay back down, stared
at the moon and the darkly cast unknown.


And often in this game,
half the night passed,
then the bugs ran past
a slow summer sleep.


In the kitchen a roughhewn window
brought a similar moon,
the gentle dance of air in her hair,
the likes of summer in her eyes
and a lonely mother’s care,
whose years’ disillusions deny
any necessity of this summer
or the next. For every year there
is the moon, the grass, the air,
with them the abstruse absence
of strings that bind to home.
One who is loved will only roam,
one who loves may only sense.
In her wait, she too was growing—
growing and graying in passable strain.


And in her drowse
by the fire,
she thought for once
it rained.


Summer bore (in a world of lights)
this folksy forest night,
and with the smell of the first rain
he sang so, sang so!
With the bleared green, in his new flight
he danced so, danced so!
Summer held (in her listless eyes)
this firstsoever rain.


~ Symphony

[Virgil]

Symphony, I am stunned at your skill here, but more important at the shear beauty of this. This poem is incredible! I can't say I grasp it completely but it sucks me into its world. I am in total astonishment.

Quick note on this, "One who’s loved will only roam" I think you mean "one who's love will only roam," no?

I think I loved all of it but I really thought this was fabulous:


In the kitchen a roughhewn window
brought a similar moon,
the gentle dance of air in her hair,
the likes of summer in her eyes
and a lonely mother’s care,
whose years’ disillusions deny
any necessity of this summer
or the next. For every year there
is the moon, the grass, the air,
with them the abstruse absence
of strings that bind to home.
One who’s loved will only roam,
one who loves may only sense.
In her wait, she too was growing—
growing and graying in passable strain.

Oh how beautiful! The casual internal rhymes, the repetitions, the alliterations, rhythm, the sentence structure, all work so wonderfully together. Thanks for letting me read this. :)

[PrinceMyshkin]

I'm a wee bit miffed that Virgil beat me to it and said virtually everything I'd have said. (Though I think if you had meant what he said you'd have written whose love, not "who's loved"

To repeat what I wrote in your blog: I have this small complaint, or question: I lost track of the "he" mentioned in the first stanza and failed to recognize his relationship to the she in the kitchen.

But that's like grumbling at a pebble at the foot of Kilimanjaro. It's a magnificent poem! It begins with a lightning strike of imagery, and calmly, brilliantly continues in a steady rain of music and images.

[Virgil]

I'm a wee bit miffed that Virgil beat me to it and said virtually everything I'd have said. (Though I think if you had meant what he said you'd have written whose love, not "who's loved"

I guess I'm just quicker. :D

Oh you're right about "whose."

[symphony]

Symphony, I am stunned at your skill here, but more important at the shear beauty of this. This poem is incredible! I can't say I grasp it completely but it sucks me into its world. I am in total astonishment.

Quick note on this, "One who’s loved will only roam" I think you mean "one who's love will only roam," no?

I think I loved all of it but I really thought this was fabulous:


Oh how beautiful! The casual internal rhymes, the repetitions, the alliterations, rhythm, the sentence structure, all work so wonderfully together. Thanks for letting me read this. :)
Thanks! I dont know why but I'm feeling truly happy after writing this one. And by "who's loved..." i meant to say "who is loved...". Do you think I should change it to "who is" to make it clearer?



I'm a wee bit miffed that Virgil beat me to it and said virtually everything I'd have said. (Though I think if you had meant what he said you'd have written whose love, not "who's loved"

To repeat what I wrote in your blog: I have this small complaint, or question: I lost track of the "he" mentioned in the first stanza and failed to recognize his relationship to the she in the kitchen.

But that's like grumbling at a pebble at the foot of Kilimanjaro. It's a magnificent poem! It begins with a lightning strike of imagery, and calmly, brilliantly continues in a steady rain of music and images.
And to repeat my reply to that comment of yours, Uncle Jer:
Unlike in other poems, I have plans of editing this one if I need to. Hmm I do understand the losing track of the he in here. But I thought it'd be clear that the he is the son and the she the mother. Well...I'll have to see what I can do about that...

[Virgil]

Thanks! I dont know why but I'm feeling truly happy after writing this one. And by "who's loved..." i meant to say "who is loved...". Do you think I should change it to "who is" to make it clearer?


Oh I see. For some reason that didn't register in my brain. I don't think you have to, though to my ear it sounds better with the "is" not glossed over. It's up to you.

[PrinceMyshkin]

Thanks! I dont know why but I'm feeling truly happy after writing this one.

That IS strange, that you should feel happy... just because you've written a very beautiful poem that innumerable people are going to get pleasure from.

[symphony]

That IS strange, that you should feel happy... just because you've written a very beautiful poem that innumerable people are going to get pleasure from.
It is after a long time that the nocturnal poet in me is singing again. And I am doubly happy just to be happy, and gazillions of times so to let be happy. :)



Oh I see. For some reason that didn't register in my brain. I don't think you have to, though to my ear it sounds better with the "is" not glossed over. It's up to you.
Well I want it to be clear, that one. Those two lines were important to me when I wrote the poem. Though overall they now seem to lose the charm they had back then, somehow... I think I'll make that little change to ensure the clarity yes. Thank you for pointing it out, Uncle Virge.

[~Sophia~]

One word... FANTASTIC! (the others have said it all)