Author Information
The Dead I Have Known
Folder:
Dark Poetry
They say there are ghosts in this old
battlefield, and if I listen long
enough I can hear the sound of gunshot
and a monsoon of life spilled out all
at once.
But I haven't seen you, shades of yesterday.
I've stood in the trenches you dug
and I've crossed the rocky creek that
connects quiet with quiet but the platinum
chimes below sound nothing like
your prayers and screams.
Still, you are infused in the air,
implanted in summer's golden aura:
captive souls in leaves and moss.
Some trees remember your mission,
and you may have glimpsed the white
fever on the water on a day like today:
noonday battle raging softly on blue--
explosions in step with the wind.
Harder than a star, softer than pity,
death is what our lives amount to.
Years race by so slowly; time stands
still, and then it is gone. But
you knew that, spirits. It was
springtime when you passed through.
Do you see the battles we fight today?
some with causes, some without, some
inventing causes.
Today few die in one furious gulp,
but rather piece by crumbling piece
in the arena of desire.
If the dead walk here, it is only
to wonder.
Tell them, enlightened, heaven-soaked
trees falling to the ground to make
room for more battles and ambition,
how blessed they are to sleep.
Patricia Joan Jones
Speechless
No words, other than wow.
Thank you for your very
Thank you for your very encouraging feedback. I value your opinion, fine Poet!
I saw Stella's perceptive
I saw Stella's perceptive comment recently posted and came to visit this poem, with my usual expectation of the quality of the PATRICIAN style. And I was not disappointed.. Never am. I hope my response does not sound too self-centered (of which I have been accused from time to time, lol). This poem reminded me very much of my visit fo Gettysburg July of 1995, just days after the battle's anniversary. That place, hallowed by so much sacrifice and suffering, is, in a very spiritual way, haunted. Not by ghosts and ghouls, but by the lingering, last earhly presence of the people who died there; even of the presence, which had visited there for a few brief hours, of an Illinois railroad lawyer who had achieved the highest elected office in our land; and was, in my humble opinion, our greatest President. I stood within ten feet of where he delivered the Gettysburg Address. Even this, perhaps the greatest American, this son of a struggling farmer and a former housemaid; this man from whom the great love of his had been taken from him by typhus; this man would become, as Rod Serling once pointed out, the last casualty of the civil war; and his presence, at Gettysburg, can still be felt. All this was evoked by the very cosmic and spiritual resonance of your poem; and I offer this comment to you in humble gratitude for a poem that has touched my own experience, only as a tourist and amateur historian at that great battlefield, in ways that I am still not enough of a poet to express. Not yet. Perhaps this poem will teach me how. Sorry to be so verbose about myself.
Starward
I love that you could attach
I love that you could attach personal significance to this work, and it's always a pleasure to take historical excursions through your vast storehouse of knowledge. I know exactly what you mean about a place having a certain oppressive aura: I certainly felt it. Verbose? Never. It's a transporting experience to read your analysis of an experience that was profound enough to write about. Never doubt that you are a monumental encouragement and blessing to me. And again, endless thanks.
Thank you for the reply, and
Thank you for the reply, and the assurance that I had not trespassed. The comment was very personal, but your poem spoke so eloquently to that personal experiece, at Gettysburg, that I just felt compelled to share it here. Thanls again for letting me be verbose.
Starward
I always welcome your
I always welcome your intelligent and encouraging expressions.
Great Lines
"death is what our lives amount to" Here is essence of poetic voice - touching the image perfectly. Bravo write. ~S~
Thank you for reading so deep
Thank you for reading so deep into my work and leaving such encouraging feedback. Can't thank you enough.