Magi (ver. 3)

[LeoVictorBriones (poetremains)]

So many years ago,
in a dirt manger,
upon stiff amber straw
a little king was born.
He said he loved us
no matter what, no matter when.

Of that thought—
wise men would bow,
a kingdom come forth.

Not too long ago
after making love
on sheets of crimson silk,
in a tone somber and forlorn,
you said you no longer loved me,
no matter what, no matter when.

Of that thought—
I weep like the fool,
the fabric I wove, torn.

And all that’s left
is a holy umbilical cord.

[Sherry Thrasher]

I think what I like the most about your work is that it has a distinct style to it. Personally, I'd end this with torn.

Merry Christmas!

Sherry

[mfwilkie]

I like this, Leo!

Tone's terrific.

Mags

[Tina (Firefly)]

think I'd say "with that thought.." Otherwise, this is so powerful, so painful that I actually felt a physical impact with that last line, in particular. Wishing you a blessed New Year in all aspects of your life, dearest friend, but particularly in love. In the meantime, though, your poetry does not suffer. Tina

[purplejacket]

I wouldn't change the first part, and I wouldn't change the end, but I might tinker with the second stanza a bit. Not to fond of "after making love." I might advise getting rid of the "said"s and make it so it was a done thing, rather than a said thing...

a little king was born
who loved us
no matter...

...not so long ago
on crimson silk sheets
you no longer loved me...


also, the end of that stanza, it sounds like you're tearing the sheets, but they are the fabric you've torn. So, this was a relationship built on the bed? Being both a jester and a fool seems a bit redundant.


Hey, I don't mean to rip your whole thing apart. I like what's going on with the echoes between the stanzas, and their contrasts. It's an interesting work. And it's so seldom that I get to pick one of yours apart because I generally get so sucked in that all I can do is smile and nod as my emotional finger extends.

[Marion Poirier]

So Many years ago,
in a dirt manger
of stiff amber straw, comma
an infant little king was born.
Said He loved us- dash
no matter what, no matter when.
Of that thought—
Wise men would bow,
a kingdom come forth.

Leo, I'd end the poem here.
I don't find an analogy in the
following verse. Perhaps, use it in another poem,
could be very effective in a different setting-
we are talking apples compared
to oranges here -- different concepts that are
not compatible-except on a very personal basis
that is difficult for the observer to reconcile.



Happy Holidays. Best Wishes for the New Year.
Marion

[David Nelson Bradsher]

I have to agree with M on this one, Leo. Apples and oranges.

[mfwilkie]

David and I were talking about this piece, today, Leo.

I have to disagree with Tina's suggetsion to change the
'of that thought'. It's a strong part of the Voice/Tone here.
I'd put in a line break to give that phrase more attention and energy.



So many years ago,
in a dirt manger, *
*Don't think you really need the modifier here. I'd keep it simple.
on stiff amber straw
a little king was born.
Said They said he loved us
no matter what, no matter when.

Of that thought—
wise men would bow,
a kingdom comeforth.

Not too long ago
after making love
on crimson silk sheets of silk,*
* To smooth out the line.
you said you no longer loved me,
no matter what, no matter when.

Of that thought—*
Here you could use Tina's 'with' because it's recent and you're thinking about it. With the line break it works and keeps tone.I bend like a jester*
and I cry like a fool,*
the fabric I wove, torn.

*A jester and fool would be the same here. And I keep it three verses like the preceeding
'of that thought'.

And all that’s left
is a holy umbilical cord.

Like it, like it, like it!

Mags

[LeoVictorBriones (poetremains)]

Thanks everyone...solid changes...for those perplexed by the nexus...the point is God's love is so much more powerful than our human will to love.

[mfwilkie]

Good morning, Leo,

I woke up thinking about this piece, this am.
Doing two things at once, I missed the obvious—
babies are usually born into someone's hands.

The manger, whatever it was made of, would have been where he was placed.

What would you think about using Joseph and a very concrete image of the birth because if that wasn't love I don't know what is.

So many years ago,
into Joseph's hands
in a dirt manger,
upon stiff amber straw
a little king was born.
He said he loved us
no matter what, no matter when.

Of that thought—
wise men would bow,
a kingdom come forth.

Not too long ago
after making love
on sheets of crimson silk,
in a tone somber and forlorn, *
*I'd take this out, Leo. It weighs down the poem.
you said you no longer loved me,
no matter what, no matter when.

Of that thought—
I weep like the fool,
the fabric I wove, torn.

And all that’s left
is a holy umbilical cord.

Mags

[MichaelFirewalker]

good grief, Leo, I'd leave the fuckin' thing just like it is----it's very noir/real life----it ain't about a sappy romance with hearts and strewn rose petals----it's about loving and losing, and what's left afterwards that's all raw and bleeding but still alive----just like Jesus is raw and bleeding after we all crucified Him with our sins, but still VERY alive!

michael