This poem reminds me of my life on the road--always walking, wandering, hitchhiking; walking on dirt roads and gravel roads.
You are such a gifted poet and a beautiful, young lady.
***
For some reason, this poem reminds me of the poetry of Gerard Manley Hopkins:
That Nature is a Heraclitean Fire and of the comfort of the Resurrection
"CLOUD-PUFFBALL, torn tufts, tossed pillows ' flaunt forth, then chevy on an air- built thoroughfare: heaven-roysterers, in gay-gangs ' they throng; they glitter in marches. Down roughcast, down dazzling whitewash, ' wherever an elm arches, Shivelights and shadowtackle in long ' lashes lace, lance, and pair. Delightfully the bright wind boisterous ' ropes, wrestles, beats earth bare Of yestertempest’s creases; in pool and rut peel parches Squandering ooze to squeezed ' dough, crust, dust; stanches, starches Squadroned masks and manmarks ' treadmire toil there Footfretted in it. Million-fuelèd, ' nature’s bonfire burns on. But quench her bonniest, dearest ' to her, her clearest-selvèd spark Man, how fast his firedint, ' his mark on mind, is gone! Both are in an unfathomable, all is in an enormous dark Drowned. O pity and indig ' nation! Manshape, that shone Sheer off, disseveral, a star, ' death blots black out; nor mark Is any of him at all so stark But vastness blurs and time ' beats level. Enough! the Resurrection, A heart’s-clarion! Away grief’s gasping, ' joyless days, dejection. Across my foundering deck shone A beacon, an eternal beam. ' Flesh fade, and mortal trash Fall to the residuary worm; ' world’s wildfire, leave but ash: In a flash, at a trumpet crash, I am all at once what Christ is, ' since he was what I am, and This Jack, joke, poor potsherd, ' patch, matchwood, immortal diamond, Is immortal diamond."
***
"Down roughcast, down dazzling whitewash."
"Shivelights and shadowtackle in long ' lashes lace, lance, and pair."
See how Hopkins repeats words and consonants. Now look at your poem:
"hard breaks/ hard picked pebbles/ hard cuts"
"think of cross stiches/ think of folded maps/ think fields of clover and ditch"
This reads like Hopkins:
"flies over short stone walls that wend like rivers"
***
I am sorry that I haven't commented on your poetry in a while. I have been distracted of late. I have reaquainted myself with a young lady. I believe it is God's will, but I am still on the road. I am not sure what the Lord's timing is in this potential relationship. I first met her in 2003. I feel like I have been run over by a freight train.
Enough! the Resurrection, A heart’s-clarion! Away grief’s gasping, ' joyless days, dejection. Across my foundering deck shone A beacon, an eternal beam. '
@Tim thank you so much for posting the beautiful verses!
@Bethany thank you very much! I was thinking of adventures when I wrote it.
5 comments:
your poems are so beautiful lately.
lately??
I love this so much. It feels like I'm just about to embark on an adventure. :)
This poem reminds me of my life on the road--always walking, wandering, hitchhiking; walking on dirt roads and gravel roads.
You are such a gifted poet and a beautiful, young lady.
***
For some reason, this poem reminds me of the poetry of Gerard Manley Hopkins:
That Nature is a Heraclitean Fire and of the comfort of the Resurrection
"CLOUD-PUFFBALL, torn tufts, tossed pillows ' flaunt forth, then chevy on an air-
built thoroughfare: heaven-roysterers, in gay-gangs ' they throng; they glitter in marches.
Down roughcast, down dazzling whitewash, ' wherever an elm arches,
Shivelights and shadowtackle in long ' lashes lace, lance, and pair.
Delightfully the bright wind boisterous ' ropes, wrestles, beats earth bare
Of yestertempest’s creases; in pool and rut peel parches
Squandering ooze to squeezed ' dough, crust, dust; stanches, starches
Squadroned masks and manmarks ' treadmire toil there
Footfretted in it. Million-fuelèd, ' nature’s bonfire burns on.
But quench her bonniest, dearest ' to her, her clearest-selvèd spark
Man, how fast his firedint, ' his mark on mind, is gone!
Both are in an unfathomable, all is in an enormous dark
Drowned. O pity and indig ' nation! Manshape, that shone
Sheer off, disseveral, a star, ' death blots black out; nor mark
Is any of him at all so stark
But vastness blurs and time ' beats level. Enough! the Resurrection,
A heart’s-clarion! Away grief’s gasping, ' joyless days, dejection.
Across my foundering deck shone
A beacon, an eternal beam. ' Flesh fade, and mortal trash
Fall to the residuary worm; ' world’s wildfire, leave but ash:
In a flash, at a trumpet crash,
I am all at once what Christ is, ' since he was what I am, and
This Jack, joke, poor potsherd, ' patch, matchwood, immortal diamond,
Is immortal diamond."
***
"Down roughcast, down dazzling whitewash."
"Shivelights and shadowtackle in long ' lashes lace, lance, and pair."
See how Hopkins repeats words and consonants. Now look at your poem:
"hard breaks/ hard picked pebbles/ hard cuts"
"think of cross stiches/ think of folded maps/ think fields of clover and ditch"
This reads like Hopkins:
"flies over short stone walls that wend like rivers"
***
I am sorry that I haven't commented on your poetry in a while. I have been distracted of late. I have reaquainted myself with a young lady. I believe it is God's will, but I am still on the road. I am not sure what the Lord's timing is in this potential relationship. I first met her in 2003. I feel like I have been run over by a freight train.
I hope you have a beautiful day.
Enough! the Resurrection,
A heart’s-clarion! Away grief’s gasping, ' joyless days, dejection.
Across my foundering deck shone
A beacon, an eternal beam. '
@Tim thank you so much for posting the beautiful verses!
@Bethany thank you very much! I was thinking of adventures when I wrote it.
@Kourtney haha thanks luv! :)
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