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
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."
I'm impressed by your
I'm impressed by your brilliant work as well. So gratified you stopped by. Many thanks!
I Enjoyed Every Line
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.
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.
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. :)
What brilliant reflections
What brilliant reflections and an eloquent analysis! An insightful and precious gift. I can't thank you enough.
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
Thank you dear friend for
Thank you dear friend for those very uplifting words of wisdom. I'm always honored when you stop by.
you`re welcome pat
you`re welcome pat
ron parrish
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.
Your gorgeous comment
Your gorgeous comment inspired and validated my vision more than you could ever know. My humble and deepest gratitude.
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.
J-Called
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!