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I have spent entire years
Between Here and There,
Atop ancient, untamed waves,
And have not known
Wednesday from Sunday.
I have stood in the yellow darkness of dawn,
Gripping the wooden mantles of a strange ship,
And have not been afraid of the cold.
In the warmth of my own bed,
With bread in my stomach,
And all things sweetly secured,
I have clawed at my pillow,
At the me I am swaddled in.
It provides so well the feeling that you allow yourself eventually to rest, to be with/for yourself, at least at times... A well flowing nice poem, and since cold fossilizes me, I felt relieved, toward the end, to find warmth... Thank you for sharing.
I have to say, I found the imagery of ancient untamed waves very beautiful and powerful.
Give me poems wherein I can see and hear and touch and taste and smell what's going on in the poem--not metaphysical whispering--and yours delivers the senses. Very good.
Thanks Jermac, Alexander III!
Your reply is poetically beautiful itself. Interesting interpretation. I was actually going for unsettled at the end, not relieved. But I am so glad you enjoyed it.Quote:
Originally Posted by Bar22do
I know those ancient seas, I have held corals in my hand that lived in them hundreds of millions of years ago. I too visit them from a warm bed. R.L.Stevenson explained to me long ago that a bed IS a boat. If you can relax your grip on the sideboard, the trip is so much more enjoyable. Alas, easier said than done.
It was unsettling at the end. To think of being a great captain of a ship and then when you are alone with yourself to feel such discomfort. Many a great leader had this problem.
It is interesting and promising. It seems like it needs more development. There seems to be a big gap between the first stanza and the second.
Glad it was at least a bit unsettling. I wasn't actually referring to a captain necessarily, (and I'm not entirely certain what this poem is about either. I simply sat down at the computer and thought "I want to write a poem. It will begin 'I have spent entire years,' " because that line had been in my head all day for some reason. I began with no particular end in mind). Your interpretation isn't quite what I was going for, but it hits close to the mark, (and certainly makes more sense than mine at this point! :lol:)Quote:
Originally Posted by jersea
I couldn't agree more, Virgil. I'm going to do some revising and post it once more in this thread.Quote:
Originally Posted by Virgil
Good. I'll look forward to reading it. :)Quote:
Originally Posted by Lumiere
Thanks for the reply! It is so neat to hear the author's intent after they write a poem.
I have spent entire years
Between Here and There,
Atop ancient, untamed waves,
And have not known
Wednesday from Sunday.
I have stood in the yellow darkness of dawn,
Gripping the wooden mantles of a strange ship,
And have not been afraid of the cold.
Many a summer
I have exiled myself willingly
To a remote bend of the world,
And have not known
"suucrataw" from "ligberrui."
I have stretched weary limbs across damp straw,
Cradling my head against the earth.
Among warm animal blood,
Warm animal breath,
Hooves padding softly in the darkness,
And honest, unthinking eyes like wet stones,
I have drifted easily asleep.
On the stillest of nights,
In the warmth of my own bed,
With bread in my stomach,
And all things sweetly secured,
I have blinked at the ceiling,
I have clutched at the skin of my face,
I have clawed at my pillow,
At the me I am swaddled in.
I like it. Nothing productive to say, but I did enjoy it. :nod:
Very inspiring...it inspires me to write as well...
I do find the second version more complete and wonderfully flowing and yes - unsettling as I read it now... (I do not know exactly why, maybe for rhythm's reasons, I would give up "sweetly", in "all things (sweetly) secured...