The thought lives out its life.

[Lykren]

I thought, “I have to hold that,”
and you replied, because you hear
my thoughts as you hear violent hands,
“What will you do with it
when you find it,” and I believed.
“This is a stroke. I am over-analyzing
my final moment.” Sharp waves of cool
sunlight, and the sea is beginning to rise.
The flies are beginning to come and
I have not found it yet. Though
I cannot breathe anymore you have
spit breath back into me like unto
the silly child of a bear. God forsake
these islands of hopeful thought
I am whispering and suddenly -
but there is no suddenly -
slowly then, I am still arriving.
Even craving the sound of a mountain
barking at the shuddering night,
even by the door where I silence myself,
somehow a pale voice. Another word.




Thank you for reading.

[Delta40]

I read this yesterday in the outdoor assembly area at a funeral. It seemed so appropriate somehow. We sat silently apart from each other swatting flies endlessly as we waited for the cortege to arrive. Many thanks x

[Hawkman]

Hi Lykren. For the most part I find this an exceptionally good poem, but there are a few things which might be looked at critically. The sense of diminished capability following what is defined in the poem as a stroke, is well conveyed. The thoughts and intentions of the narrator are shown to be frustrated, which is good. What is less good is the confusion created by your use of inappropriate words and phrases. Whilst one can imagine that this is, perhaps, intentional in that they reflect the brain's failure to be able to think properly, I feel that the style of the piece undermines this intention. Mostly, the flow, as is characteristic of your work, is very good, and large parts make sense. Consequently, the glitches stand out horribly. If the whole poem had been ragged in its flow, more fractured, it would be apparent to the reader that the poem was intentionally thus. The way it is now, however, things that don't make sense look like errors in composition.

For example, the first four lines as a statement are fine, but the fifth line, the question "...when you find it, and I believed." don't make sense in context. Why "find it" ? The sense of the first four lines is that there is something in front of the narrator just out of reach (an object or thought) which he wants to hold. Therefore, it is not lost. Why and what is the narrator saying he believed? The full stop after believed separates the thought from the declaration/realisation that "this is a stroke, which would have made sense in context. "...when you have it" and a comma after believed sorts the problem out.

This sentence has a number of issues:

"Though
I cannot breathe anymore you have
spit breath back into me like unto
the silly child of a bear."

"have spit" is grammatically wrong. You can say, "...you spit breath back into me," but by putting "have" in their you put the sentence into past tense, which requires the past participle of spit, which is spat.

The simile, "like unto the silly child of a bear" doesn't really work. Your use of "silly" in the sense of "...helpless child or animal," is defined in one online dictionary as "archaic", and one feels you wished to establish this archaic context with a sledgehammer by throwing an "unto" in there.

Child or animal, one feels, not both. It just isn't necessary to make reference to a bear, whose offspring would in any case be better described as a cub. Bear cubs may be relatively helpless, but the image of a bear does not sit well with helplessness. "You spit breath back into me, as you would a silly child," would be better here, although you can put it into past tense, (though "have" is actually unnecessary) as noted above.

Mostly, I only have issues with the punctuation in the last nine lines. The use of two evens is questionable. I'd be inclined to cut the first one as the emphasis isn't really necessary.

"God forsake
these islands of hopeful thought,
I am whispering, and suddenly -
but there is no suddenly -
slowly then, I am still arriving.
Craving the sound of a mountain
barking at the shuddering night,
even by the door where I silence myself; I feel a semicolon might be better here.
somehow a pale voice. Another word."

Generally, I really like this poem, the good points out-way the few minor flaws I've highlighted. It is very engaging. Thanks for sharing.

Live and be well - H

[Lykren]

Thanks to both of you!

Hawkman, your comments are very useful to me. I edited this poem after I posted it, but I may come back to it once more now.