mournful

[Bar22do]

for P. Th.'s 11th death anniversary


as time stops,

the wind endures,
flayed by rocks
in the deep;

pain multiplies
in the howling
of the wind;

shadows pant down
pallid faces,
leaking into void.

‘Move, time,'
bare knuckles pound
the tombstone.




(Jerusalem, September 27, 2012)

[Jeos]

time doesn't pass...we pass !

Good tunning between the title and the content.

[Mojtaba-Iraqi]

This is really beautiful and meaninful. Thank you for sharing.

[cafolini]

time doesn't pass...we pass !

Good tunning between the title and the content.

Could you do that faster. I think time is leaking all over your passing shoes. LMAO

[Hawkman]

You have a major problem in the structure of this piece. The first three Verses' order needs reconsidering time stopping, wind dying, then howling wind isn't working. Better to start with the third, than have time stop and let the wind die. You should rethink the penultimate verse as words like wobbly are inherently funny and have no place in this poem. Don't like your use of null either. Last stanza's ok.

Live and be well - H

[AuntShecky]

Nobody can dispute the meaning of this piece: that the old saw that "time heals all wounds" isn't necessarily true, especially concerning the pain of grief. Years after the fact, natural phenomena can remind us of our irreparable loss, such as the ominously howling wind in your piece.

The visual make-up (line arrangement) is fine; though it's in free verse, there isn't a jagged, uneven look to it, as the overall arrangement of the lines suggests a stone worn down and smoothed over the passage of time. There is also a natural "breathy" rhythm.

Some of the lines, however, are abstract and need work. I don't know about "expires"; obviously the word makes us think of death and your theme of mourning, but in the next section, the wind not only is very much alive but it's howling.

Your third strophe gave yours fooly the most trouble. Are "wobbly faces" the object of the verb "pant down" Or do "wobbly faces" introduce another topic/image/statement? Also, I'd think of an alternative synonym for "null."

Finally,there's a glitch in the last line. Except for slangy expressions, such as "We crashed Bubba's party," the verb "crashes" is intransitive, so you'll need to insert a preposition
of some kind-- "on" or "into."

[hillwalker]

The opening 7 lines are very poignant but the last 2 stanzas tempt so many misinterpretations that they fail to maintain the standard set at the beginning.

H

[Bar22do]

Thanks Jeos, Iraqi, cafolini (for commenting on Jeos' comment), Auntie and Hill.
Auntie and Hill, your kind, constructive observations and suggestions are my lesson. I made some first little edits (actually, I meant "crushes", transitive, not "crashes"...), but will certainly work more on the second part of the poem. Thanks all a lot.

[Jeos]

Could you do that faster. I think time is leaking all over your passing shoes. LMAO


Then why are you wasting your time?

[cafolini]

Then why are you wasting your time?

What hurt you so much during childhood to have to compensate with such loneliness in the midst of things and occurrences? Self-made laws?:rolleyes5:

[Bar22do]

cafolini, don't you think it might be a good idea, at this point, to invite Jeos to continue this discussion on PMs instead of here, since it does not concern my poem and becomes somewhat personal? Please consider... and of course, were you willing to express anything regarding this work of mine, you'd be most welcome. Best of all.

[cafolini]

cafolini, don't you think it might be a good idea, at this point, to invite Jeos to continue this discussion on PMs instead of here, since it does not concern my poem and becomes somewhat personal? Please consider... and of course, were you willing to express anything regarding this work of mine, you'd be most welcome. Best of all.

Well, I figure I deal with the same problem at once. Doesn't your stuff starts with "as time stops?"
Time never stops. It is a most precious commodity. When it comes to that, there is absolute certainty. And I don't do PM's in any case, this or any other.

[Bar22do]

Ah, this is à propos, indeed. And I definitely respect your opinion, cafolini. Absolute certainty must be great to live in, I guess. Though for me, Dear Auntie's or Hill's perspicacity feel encouraging as regards my capacity to convey a meaning, however uncertain are the steps I venture.

[Haunted]

Eleven years and still no closure, and you conveyed it with such great sadness.

Just a suggestion..."wind" is used twice, maybe changing one to gale, or gust. "flayed by rocks" is very graphic and shows how raw it still is. The potency gets diluted somewhat, just for me, as the poem progresses into abstraction and the last stanza is bit vague.

After several readings I suddenly saw the mourners through your words, I wonder if the deceased mourn for us mourning for them... Your work always takes me much further beyond.

[hallaig]

for P. Th.'s 11th death anniversary


as time stops,

the wind endures,
flayed by rocks
in the deep;

pain multiplies
in the howling
of the wind;

shadows pant down
pallid faces,
leaking into void.

‘Move, time, my lips
could pray,’ but time
crushes its rule...



(Jerusalem, September 27, 2012)


Call me an eejit if you like but words like 'flayed' 'void' 'pain' 'pray' make me wince a wee bit in poems. This is too abstract for me, no as fixed in personal time and space as some of your other stuff.

[DocHeart]

Your poetry always surprises me, Bar. The words you use, and the way you place them. What you make them do:

the wind endures,
flayed by rocks
in the deep;

and

shadows pant down
pallid faces

Perhaps I enjoy surrealism too much, but I feel that these lines distort logic in a shockingly emotional way. It's the stuff of nightmares, and it is persistent through time.

This definitely isn't for casual readers.

Let me just nit-pick a little and suggest that you close the quote after "time," in the last stanza (rather than after "pray"). But I really don't care if you don't. I'll still admire this.

Best,
DH

[Bar22do]

For certain things, time stops irremediably with the death of the unique person who enabled development thereof. This was the poem's motivation or/and pretext, which evidently failed to inspire others. So I certainly won't call you an eejit (thou it's such a great word, I find) Hallaig, I will sooner break my pen. Thanks for your effort to read it!
Haunted, your comments always make me feel my writing is understandable, but no, it's only for you and not because of its quality, but because of your so perceptive a nature. Thank you as always.

[Bar22do]

Your poetry always surprises me, Bar. The words you use, and the way you place them. What you make them do:

the wind endures,
flayed by rocks
in the deep;

and

shadows pant down
pallid faces

Perhaps I enjoy surrealism too much, but I feel that these lines distort logic in a shockingly emotional way. It's the stuff of nightmares, and it is persistent through time.

This definitely isn't for casual readers.

Let me just nit-pick a little and suggest that you close the quote after "time," in the last stanza (rather than after "pray"). But I really don't care if you don't. I'll still admire this.

Best,
DH

I think it's a brilliant idea, Doc, thank you, I'm going to make the change. And, Doc, your words mean so much to me.

P.S. Re emotionally distorted logic I use, well, it's not the first time I hear this. It may be that I live and/or observe life from different (than the norm...?) perspectives, and images that I report on, although logical for me, appear bizarre to others? I'm happy they are fine with you, at least.

[Bar22do]

've changed my last strophe... does it help this poem?