It was in a dream before men.
The night was falling away.
The forrests were alert in their sleep.
A cold, moist breath seaped from the wind.
Fog arose.
Dew became a damp shroud.
The horizon swelled in shadow,
And shadow was gone.
The first ray hurtled from the line
To ignite the day
White mist became veridescent.
Wealth of tree.
Not in their bounteous hands
But from their bodies.
Now crumpled sheets stained
The color of man's iniquities.
Wealth of stone.
Prized for their rarity,
Desired for their impurity.
Not tainted like their kin
Which are colored like man's consequences.
They mark the month of May
So Man creates;
Sometimes with copper
Something that once burnished
Should shine in the parting light.
Now old and untended,
It appears a gangrenous arm.
Pennies are turned to their intended color.
These works of pride, greed, and use
Impart a gleam no more
Than insidious moss and lichen
Which pull down wall and mountian alike
It is the color of orbs
Insignificant and magnificent;
A source of all and an observer.
Scientists that study it know
That the sun's primary shade is green.
Everything born unto it follows.
...
not my best, i think, but definately the most inspired by SRD
Verd
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Verd
"It is not the literal past that rules us, save, possibly, in a biological sense. It is images of the past. Each new historical era mirrors itself in the picture and active mythology of its past or of a past borrowed from other cultures. It tests its sense of identity, of regress or new achievement against that past.”
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I can most definately see the link with Donaldson and with the Land. Your poem makes me think of the Lords when they speak of the old forests, and how the Land was harmed by the coming of Man.
You have some very vivid imagery in your poem!
You have some very vivid imagery in your poem!
andNow crumpled sheets stained
The color of man's iniquities
Thank you for sharing your talent with us!Something that once burnished
Should shine in the parting light.
Now old and untended,
It appears a gangrenous arm.
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thank you, Duchess.
btw, I love and welcome criticism (constructive or otherwise)... don't always agree with it, but I try to keep an open mind.
btw, I love and welcome criticism (constructive or otherwise)... don't always agree with it, but I try to keep an open mind.
"It is not the literal past that rules us, save, possibly, in a biological sense. It is images of the past. Each new historical era mirrors itself in the picture and active mythology of its past or of a past borrowed from other cultures. It tests its sense of identity, of regress or new achievement against that past.”
-George Steiner
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Re: Verd
Not your happiest work I hope!
Actually, like most people, I find the dark mood strangely appealing at times. Nice job. And you sure put moss and lichen in a new light!Sylvanus wrote:Now crumpled sheets stained
The color of man's iniquities.
Not tainted like their kin
Which are colored like man's consequences.
Now old and untended,
It appears a gangrenous arm.
Than insidious moss and lichen
Which pull down wall and mountian alike
All lies and jest
Still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest -Paul Simon
Still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest -Paul Simon
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The image in my head is of a flaming arrow being loosed to land on a funeral barge or somesuch. An end of night or an age (destruction), the beginning of day (creation). I wrote is so long ago, though, that I can no longer be certain of what I was thinking when I wrote it.
"It is not the literal past that rules us, save, possibly, in a biological sense. It is images of the past. Each new historical era mirrors itself in the picture and active mythology of its past or of a past borrowed from other cultures. It tests its sense of identity, of regress or new achievement against that past.”
-George Steiner
-George Steiner