Deadly and Merciful Blue

 

I have a story,

but it doesn't matter now, 

with each wave a saga, 

a lifetime—

every death a birth, 

and 

just being here is speaking.

 

Gulls catch my crumbs

in midair and

become extensions of wind

and light,

an upheaval of light,

separate lights,

then one Being,

pulling and releasing 

and taking me far from

the rattling hymns of betrayal,

lead wings, pastel bullets

and gift-wrapped pain 

you have to open eventually,

 

just not while the wild sea

disbelieves time

and helps me understand

time is some cruel myth

we concocted,

minute by minute,

to keep us tame.

 

The sea labors for the Earth,

heaves and plunders,

bleeds and resurrects.

 

I hope this is how I end,

being deconstructed this way

in blue and benevolent furor,

hopefully something familiar

back at the birth

of our tiny speck of chaos.

 

Genesis replayed. The End of Days

charging in, then weeping at my feet. 

 

And I won't care if no one remembers. 

I was light playing the role

of a human for a while.

 

And it was perfect.

 

Patricia Joan Jones

 

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owlcrkbrg's picture

Impressive

I read a few of your poems and am impressed by them. I don't have to suggest you keep at it. Enjoy! :)

 


"There is no good writing, only good editing."

patriciajj's picture

I'm impressed by your

I'm impressed by your brilliant work as well. So gratified you stopped by. Many thanks! 

Cascade's picture

Patricia... I was angry

Patricia...

I was angry before I came here...

But, " the gulls have caught my crumbs in midair and became extensions of wind and light". And now, after having been purified by this mystical oceanic sermon...

"I don't care if no one remembers. I was light playing the role of a human for a while. And it was perfect"

...and this was perfect!!!  I'm not angry anymore. Thank you and much love.

patriciajj's picture

I'm thrilled that you found a

I'm thrilled that you found a refuge in my expression. Your support is a comfort to me as well,  your beautiful comments, an inspiration. Thank you! 

allets's picture

I Enjoyed Every Line

  • ...of this hymn-ode-testimonial. A voyage between existence stream-layers. Not quite heavenly, closer to etherial. More than Earthy, more atmospheroid. The reader drifts on a word-adept's anguish and altitudes. "...weeping at my feet." Just as replays should. Bravo and encore! Somebody was in a literary mood. ~S~
  •  


Onyamaichi

 

patriciajj's picture

Thank you kindly for your

Thank you kindly for your amazing perception and profound analysis. I cherish it. Such an honor that a virtuoso of language would grace me with such poetic encouragement. Deepest gratitude. 

lyrycsyntyme's picture

I don't know if there is

I don't know if there is anything I can add which others here haven't already said, but I want to - at the very least - give a nod, a second (or third, or fourth) to each notion of praise that has been laid at your feet for this piece. It's remarkable.

lyrycsyntyme's picture

I do want to add one thing,

I do want to add one thing, it turns out : ) It's simple, but I just wanted to state how much I appreciate, in terms of personal philosophy, the sentiments in "And I won't care if no one remembers..." How much that very sentiment allows you to be set just as free as those crumbs that leave your hand and ignite the mid-air chase among the gulls. :)

 

patriciajj's picture

What brilliant reflections

What brilliant reflections and an eloquent analysis! An insightful and precious gift. I can't thank you enough. 

word_man's picture

we all seem to be joined

we all seem to be joined together and the emotions that we all share puts us all at harmony we share the same pain and joy,will be remembered by some one


ron parrish

patriciajj's picture

Thank you dear friend for

Thank you dear friend for those very uplifting words of wisdom. I'm always honored when you stop by. 

word_man's picture

you`re welcome pat

you`re welcome pat


ron parrish

AquarianMale's picture

This was stunning and

This was stunning and beautiful. It needs no other accolades to win your approval. It speaks for itself. It is the brilliance of poems like this that make us want to live more. To feel and connect to the vastness without, and the vastness within. I read this several times, took a deep breath, and heard an angelic voice that pointed me in the direction of God. Absolutely an exquisite piece so indicative of how splendid you are as a poet. Thank you for sharing your talents without want, need, or expectation of the praises some poets demand of work that is vastly inferior. My own included. 

patriciajj's picture

Your gorgeous comment

Your gorgeous comment inspired and validated my vision more than you could ever know. My humble and deepest gratitude. 

Januarian's picture

Every time you post a new

Every time you post a new poem, the posting is an event of great excitement.  This poem is very Stevensian:  the gulls answers to the pigeons that sink "downward to darkness on extended wings" at the end of the great Sunday Morning; the laboring sea answers to the sea in his poems, "Sea Surface Full Of Clouds" and The Idea Of Order At Key West; and your last four lines reminds me so much of his late, and very poignant poem, "The Planet On The Table."  This is not to suggest any kind of slavish copying; rather, it is an artistic resonance in which one great Poet replies, even without intending to, to another great Poet.  That your poetic mind alludes---whether intentionally or not---to Stevens' work just raises my estimation of your greatness to an even higher degree,  And this is how the Western Canon works, according to T. S. Eliot:  your poem fits right in with Stevens' poems (and, I am sure, with other great Poets' poems), and then modifies itself, and the other Poets' poems, into a new combination.  And having mentioned Eliot, I re-read your poem as I was writing this, and I began to notice correspondences to the Four Quartets:  the presence of time, the sea, the birds, the end, the being deconstructed, and the vision of perfection apprehended at the conclusion.  How one Poet can compose an original poem, and answer both Stevens and Eliot, is beyond my knowledge but it is proof, once again, of your greatness and the breadth of your talent.  Your talent is like a high mountain, and your verbal constructions, taien as one whole, is the observatory built upon that mountain, the better to give us a superlative view of the stars.  I applaud your greatness, and I gladly declare here in this comment.  


Januarian

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patriciajj's picture

Your insights and analysis

Your insights and analysis are always a gift more valuable than words can express. That I stumbled upon a resonance with those iconic minds is the most unbelievable and fulfilling surprise. Thank you for another deeply moving vote of confidence and more motivation to reach higher, and add my gratitude to the vastness you observe through your far-reaching lens. God bless you!