Stilled

[Bar22do]

The hand of chance seems to open
for you and me -
one jack-stone tossed
and hopes lighten, fill us for a while.
But for a while. Chance,
soon ripened to become fate,
locks its hand and already
under white, numbed knuckles,
you are translucent gypsum, startling fine

and me: bungling, stunned
as you pain away at bad speed,
lose ground, god... but you’re fading!

By the earth cradled shroud, arrow shaped,
Psalms manoeuvre to open your sky,
will they?
Your light at least is freed from illusion,
mine shed, on the empty wheelbarrow.

[hack]

Bar,
"Chance, soon ripened to become fate",
is this all fate is, chance ripened in its
own sweet time? Or, is there a master with
a whip and a caress, and a plan to use
one or the other?
You sound like a warrior who has lost a
battle and is wearied of the war. I hope
you are alright my friend...peace...

[qimissung]

Very elegant and yes, a weary sadness pervades. I especially like the line "you are translucent gypsum, startling fine;" Lovely.

[Hawkman]

Sweet Bar, when I read one of your poems I feel as though I am catching a fleeting, ephemeral glimpse of a dream. You seem to be able to dress even unhappy thoughts in such beautiful imagery.

Live and be well, H

[blank|verse]

I'm afraid I didn't enjoy this one as much as your other poems, Bar.

I feel I understand the poem, and the plaintive tone is well achieved, but I didn't really find it that accessible, mainly because there are so many abstractions - 'the hand of chance', 'fate', etc. There is a strong suggestion of this being about an emotional issue but the language keeps the reader from the harsh reality of the details; or maybe the poet is keeping herself from them?

I'm not a fan of the short, direct question ('Will they?'); and the 'wheelbarrow' reference in the last line makes me think of WC Williams and made for a slightly puzzling conclusion.

But there are some nice moments, and like others, I enjoyed the 'translucent gypsum' metaphor.

[AuntShecky]

This piece poses the age-old question which has baffled thinkers and artists for millennia. Who or what rules the universe (and all of us in it): God or chance?

But here the verse is very "modern" without getting into the incomprehensible denseness of much contemporary poetry. On one level, your poem presents a condensed or compressed larger theme. The response of one human being to another relationship is on a more "down-to-earth" level. (At first I thought it was just a relationship in transition, but on a subsequent reading it strikes me that it's more final, a death perhaps, either literally or metaphorically. Your title, "Stilled," points me toward thinking that way.
That's another pun, too, -- "stilled" as "stopped" but also the idea of "still" as everlasting.

This latest offering is another example of your putting together a fine body of work. Thanks for letting us read it.

Adding after reading this "one mo' time":

The religious imagery in this (god, psalms) is very subtle. Another philosophical mention (along with chance) is "illusion."

The sly allusion to W.C.Williams's most famous poem contributed much to the piece. WCW as well as Wallace Stevens constantly emphasized "things as they are."

[Bar22do]

Late but wholehearted: thanks a lot for your comments, critiques and observations Hack, Qim, Hawk, B/V and AuntSh!
Hack, sometimes chance plays at our expense... like a chameleon that you think is green turns black before you had the time to realize... For the rest, yes, the war is not lost...
Qim, thanks for dropping a line and for appreciating my poem. I have not forgotten your promise and now that I'm back I hope to read your new poem soon...
Hawk, "fleeting, ephemeral" it's at least the second time that you describe my lines thus... well, is it not what lies at the core of life? thanks for your kind words...
B/V, WC Williams seems to have acquired an absolute exclusivity for wheelbarrows... my use of the word wasn't a fully conscious reference to his famous poem though I noticed this inescapable connection after I posted mine, and it didn't annoy me...
I thought that if you critiqued it you would accuse this poem of being too obvious, not inaccessible! so this surprised me. But I'm happy you found something to enjoy in it anyway... Thanks for your sincerity, as always.
AuntSh, your insights into my poem uncovered what it held unexpressed (whether because of the shortness of my breath when I wrote it, or because - as B/V pointed out - I preferred to sacrifice (to spare?) the details of a particular event for the sake of a more general thought). When I titled this piece, "stilled" embraced the ephemeral and the lasting/indelible indeed, their ever exchangeabe quality... W. Stevens's "things as they are" always welcome a meditative gaze, which thus instantly becomes one with them... I'm grateful for your keen reading, AuntSh!

Thanks to all and sorry it took me time to react... Best of all to all! Bar