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Post by Tina (Firefly) on Feb 18, 2008 15:03:18 GMT -5
My friend from Oklahoma writes of killing a woodpecker
and I weep for the smoke of bones which rises
from earth and is swallowed by passing birds.
It is the excruciating weight of human sorrow
which kills them, you know. They simply drop like stones
when their hearts reach the breaking point. Sometimes,
I see their feathers scattered on dry leaves or clinging
to wet mossy rock.
It makes me want to stay inside
forever.
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Post by MichaelFirewalker on Feb 18, 2008 16:12:03 GMT -5
your wings
extraordinaire
glisten
aurora borealis
colors
listen
from that high
and secret
place where I see
how gallantly
you fly
love,
michael
ps----beloved Tina----it will not always be as it now is----look at your wings----they always reflect your light----and look beyond this place, into all of our light----see how all of it flies together there, always brilliant, always together, with nothing broken, and no pain...
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Post by Jonathan Morey Weiss-Namaste47 on Feb 18, 2008 21:48:45 GMT -5
So different, ironic and incredibly tender. Line 2 bursting with alliteration, rhyme, and assonance.
A deep piece, Tina............written for a friend indeed.
Thank you for your heart swollen with love............
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Post by LynnDoiron on Feb 19, 2008 19:32:41 GMT -5
A very beautiful poem, Tina. Poetic in the best of ways. In L2 I'd cut all except and my sadness seeps like amber sap as I weep [and then continue on from there]. The reason for my suggestion is that L2 becomes all about the sorrow of the "voice/speaker" whereas the rest of the poem is beautifully about the sorrow of all pain, universal sorrow somehow -- magical, the way great poetry is. Applause here!
lynnie
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Post by Ron Wallace (Scotshawk) on Feb 20, 2008 0:17:57 GMT -5
I absolutely love the opening stanza, especially line two. I have placed wild bird feeders everywhere and have been told this will draw the woodpeckers away from the house. I hope so because these little ones laugh at my decoy owl. I surprised they haven't pecked it to pieces yet. Ron
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Post by LeoVictorBriones (poetremains) on Feb 20, 2008 15:44:37 GMT -5
An amazing response to an amazing poem:
I weep for the smoke of bones which rises
from earth and is swallowed by passing birds.
smoke of bones...how did you think of that one? Awesome!
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Post by Jonathan Morey Weiss-Namaste47 on Feb 20, 2008 15:53:46 GMT -5
Line breaks are effective now.
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