Tuesday, February 22, 2005

Poetry

That's right, you're all going to get hit with more poetry. This time, the 'finished' versions of the two poems I've been working on so long. I say 'finished' in quotation marks, because who knows? I might change them yet again. I lack editing abilities, however hard I may try, so in the end Prof Perrin just chopped a whole bunch out, said, these are the best bits, and left me to put them together. Frustrating.... But I have to say that they're so much stronger now than they were before. Anyway. Here they are. (Don't worry, they're ever so much shorter than they previously were)

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Riverside

I see the leaves flash golden and fantastic red,
translucent flames before a fiercely glowing sun.
Shaken by a sharp wind, helpless, falling,
a glimmering royal ground-carpet.

The bridge, half-drawn through trees,
built of shadow threads, cobweb thin, holding
three still figures, swinging slightly with the leaves;

liquid flows beneath, a bug upon the waters glinting
warmth on one side, cooling shadow on the other,
both together.

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Winter Walking

Even now I see the streetlights shining,
the snow glitter in the small dark neighborhood,
the houses only shadow against cold white.
We walk together, talking
as a life-line, a lamp keeping night at bay.

The chill, the brisk invigorating damp
invites speech, calling back this moment in our friendship.
Doomed memories?
Alone I think and see what I had overlooked,
until the gypsy-winter wind.

I haven’t smelled this wind in years,
this dancing wind, coming nearer.
Do you, so far in space, in time from me,
remember walking? Agonizing over boys,
stupidity, and human forgetfulness.

Cold but conversation warming more,
we paced, laughing. You, a sage
swathed in a blue down coat, remember?

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So..... if anyone has any better ideas for titles.... please, by all means, let me know. I hate titles. They're so evil. Anyway, that's my submission to the Minnemingo review. We'll see what happens with that.

1 comment:

Andrew said...

You'll excuse me if I'm not good at reading poetry. Being an English major does not always confer that ability, still, I was wondering about, in Riverside, how the two following lines work together.

..., / three still figures,...

..., / both together.

Somehow, they seem to be at odds more than the rest of the poem, even being in completely different stanzas.

But you know what? I love these poems. So, good job! :)