Barren Sky

[Hawkman]

Can you not feel the burden of the words,
brown and crisp, like dying leaves
longing for release, and aching for that
weightless drift upon the chilling air?
And when they fall, the rustling blizzard
carpets all, the vanity of thought
reduced to pulp beneath the tramping feet
of leisured hordes; while yet above,
the barren sky in mockery of pain,
accepts the homage of denuded twigs,
those branches, that for want of sap,
would crown the trees with glorious art,
whose contemplation would enrich the heart.

[hillwalker]

This is very evocative writing Hawk - a nod to the coming season but also an underlying reference to how we struggle to use words to express thoughts (and presumably fail as often as not if I read this right).

There are some wonderful expressions in this

aching for that
weightless drift upon the chilling air

and

the rustling blizzard
carpets all, the vanity of thought
reduced to pulp beneath the tramping feet

I really got great pleasure from reading this and will come back to savour it again - like a glass of fine wine

H

[Silas Thorne]

Excellent work! :) The words fall as a meditation, the substance rich. This is hammered tight, crisp, and crunchy. You've clearly honed wild words at the lathe on this one well. Would quote a few favorite lines but hillwalker took the sparkles into the light for another look and turn around.

[Bar22do]

Here expressed is the depth of your art and soul, hawk. How gratifying it is to read this (for me) multi-dimensional sharing of yours!
My quotes would be the same as hill's.
I'm only hesitant about your last line, to me a bit polished off (as if for rhyme's sake only), but perhaps only to me... I think this poem deserves a stronger ending.
Other than that, excellent, kudos, hawk.

P.S. Your use of "brown", whether intended or not, makes me think of brown study, or melancholia, fitting your theme here so well and emphasizing the reigning tone.

[PrinceMyshkin]

I too would second Hill in his choice of the particular excellences among the whole of this seamlessly beautiful poem.

[Hawkman]

hill, Thank you very much. it gives me considerable satisfaction to know that you (and the others who have posted) appreciate this poem, which surfaced out of a depairingly blank page in the middle of the night. I've been really struggling to come up with anything worthwhile for ages!

Silas, I'm particularly gratified that you enjoyed it. So thanks :)

Sweet Bar, it's always a pleasure to please you, and in so many dimensions too ;)

I feel the poem definately needed to close with a couplet. I wonder what you would have preferred... But seriously, I'm glad you enjoyed it.

Prince, thanks and I'm glad you enjoyed it.

Thank you all again, en mass for reading and commenting. Live and be well, H

[Skia]

I really enjoyed reading this,

all the best,

:)

[Hawkman]

Thanks Skia. One aims to please :D

[Skia]

Thou pleases very well in the form of poetry ;)

[Hawkman]

Shouldn't that be, "Thou pleaseth?" :D Regardless I'm most gratified that you like :)

[Skia]

You like to correct a fair bit eh Hawk :P No problem in being a perfectionist though! ;)

And Thou pleaseth one with the tongue of an enriching poet ;)

[Hawkman]

There is a reply to that last remark (involving the the words, 'cunning' and 'linguist') which I will refrain from making :D

As for being a perfectionist - yes, I am, but it doesn't stop me from making mistakes, unfortunately.

Best, H

[Skia]

Ahh okay ;)

And the difference between me and you is - You notice them. I do not!

[dafydd manton]

One of my personal favourites, Hawk, I just love autumn. A deserted airfield on an autumn morning, with the mists diffusing the coloured lighting, maybe an aircraft coughing into life in the distance - my idea of heaven! No trees, I admit, but I love the colours of the season too - I noticed some fantastic colours in the Peak District this afternoon, golds, browns, copper. Love it! Thanks so much for this! And whilst I have no idea of the struggle that went in to writing this, though I could perhaps guess, you certainly came up with the right words!

[Hawkman]

Thanks Dafydd, I'm glad you enjoyed it...

Actually, the poem wasn't hard to write. The struggle has been elswhere.

Best, H

[dafydd manton]

Hope it all pans out! Ain't life a beech sometimes, (as the Mexican said!)

[blank|verse]

A nice piece, Hawk which, with its regular line lengths, many of which are iambic pentameter, the volta at line 8, and the rhyming couplet that ends the poem, seems to want to be a sonnet when it grows up... but stops short at 13 lines.

I liked the falling leaves imagery, but I do wonder which 'words' are being referred to; the reader could be forgiven for thinking the narrator means his own 'words', which strikes a rather self-aggrandising note.

This rather self-important tone continues in the phrase 'tramping feet | of leisured hordes'. Yet the leaf-words (which have seemingly transformed to 'thoughts') are themselves described as 'vanity', meaning everyone, poet and layman, are damned as what... worthless? Insignificant? It's all rather futile.

And 'mocked' by nature, or part of it. The second part of the poem leaves me a bit non-plussed; I don't understand who is offering the 'homage of denuded twigs', or why the sky is 'barren', which is central to the whole poem.

Anyway, I think there's some great imagery in this poem, but I just think the thought behind it could be clearer and better expressed.

[Jerrybaldy]

I hate Autumn. Its neither summer or winter, its the bloody middle ground favoured by bleeding heart liberals and spreads that are only a bit fatty :) Dont even get me started on spring.
Very enjoyable despite your subject matter Hawk ;)
Jerry B