Thanks, PJ. I don't know if it's sad or just an acceptance of inevitability. When I wrote this poem, I had become both the subject and the observer. It was a moment of reflection in which there was peace rather than sadness. But to a reader, it takes on another dimension. Always the case with poetry!
PJ, the mood is definitely from personal experience, almost always in poetry. When we're angry, the words that come to us will be angry, when we're happy, we can't really write a deeply and painfully sad poem effectively. To me, poetry is the moods and moments of life reflected in an ocean transparent enough to be seen and felt.
Feel free to read anytime, Cal. Good to see you! You have been doing well on the forum, I can see! I'm so happy for you. I look forward to reading your next poem. I am not really participating in any groups there for quite sometime. But I do stop by to read a few poems here and there.
Neetu! You poem is so 'warm' and alluring even to me. I shall read it a 'thousand' times over. I have suffered a second loss since we last gathered together. Lots of reflections on the reasons why.
You poem is an experience for me for I watch you play with length of lines and learn, I see a happy metaphor transition into the somber thought of the cool touch underground. You know what is funny? I was underground this week on a high heat day, and the ambient temperatures above, below, and back up again were tell-tale.
My next poem! It Is light-hearted and about a . . . ah! I won't say. I am looking it over now and shall finish it promptly-and post it. Red and Blue.
Oh, I am sorry to hear of a second loss, Cal! That is very sad and I wish you strength in coping. Please accept my condolences.
Let me share a secret with you regarding my poems - I NEVER think when I write. Any rhythm that emerges, comes of its own accord. I feel my poems, not think them. They are born of intense feeling, of vivid images, of reactions and responses, and words come without even conscious thought. I can never write on command. At least, it won't be a real, authentic poem and anyone who knows me and my poetry, will immediately know the difference.
But I think my feelings have evaporated in these past few months. When I feel this numb, I cannot create anything. Zilch.
Oh I am fine. My faith sustains me. And my loved one and I shared so much in spirit between us. A 'thunderclap' statement in my faith, which spoke to me so many years ago, is when I caught the spiritual meaning in Luke 20:38. "God is not the God of the dead, but of the living. For to God all are alive." This speaks volumes about a mystery. . . .
Regarding writing untethered and with feeling I will try it in the wrap-up of Red and Blue. Already, your insights in this poem above are laying tracks out for me to roll across. A bright horizon is ahead.
The "connective tissue" of roots to finding life-force in dirt is powerful. The mixed purposes of casting our bodies down into dirt is both sadness and sanguine.
Brother Enoch, when I lay me down for a final continuing rest, whether my flesh cries over the pains in this life or laughs itself away over its ridiculousness, it will always stand with me that the most potent testimony to affect my living was the day I understood what a man insighted long ago: that, Enoch-of old walkswith God. Mind-blowing.
Sorry I'm late with this - I've been off-line for the past two weeks (although it appears nobody noticed). Morbid thoughts, and at my age and physical condition they become more pertinent...a reminder no longer required.
I did notice, Buzz, because you always come by my poems. However, I assumed something might have kept you away as life often does. Thank you for noticing my poem. I am sure people here missed you. I don't come by so often myself, as you know.
Tranquil, thought provoking but ultimately sad.
Thanks for sharing, Neetu
Thanks, PJ. I don't know if it's sad or just an acceptance of inevitability. When I wrote this poem, I had become both the subject and the observer. It was a moment of reflection in which there was peace rather than sadness. But to a reader, it takes on another dimension. Always the case with poetry!
Yes, I wondered whether it came from personal experience.
PJ, the mood is definitely from personal experience, almost always in poetry. When we're angry, the words that come to us will be angry, when we're happy, we can't really write a deeply and painfully sad poem effectively. To me, poetry is the moods and moments of life reflected in an ocean transparent enough to be seen and felt.
Dear Friend Neetu2: I see the sense of peace in it.
Great work.
Enoch.
Thank you, dear Enoch. I'm glad you sense peace in it. Always an honor to see you come by my poems.
Very interesting and haunting. But then again, death haunts us all, right?
Indeed it does, Perrie.
That's nice to hear, lennylynx. Thank you!
Hello friend, Neetu! It's late and I am away today and Saturday. I will love to 'stop by' again by Sunday (at the latest) and read away. (Smile.)
Incidentally, I am working on my next WF poem: "Red and Blue."
Feel free to read anytime, Cal. Good to see you! You have been doing well on the forum, I can see! I'm so happy for you. I look forward to reading your next poem. I am not really participating in any groups there for quite sometime. But I do stop by to read a few poems here and there.
Neetu! You poem is so 'warm' and alluring even to me. I shall read it a 'thousand' times over. I have suffered a second loss since we last gathered together. Lots of reflections on the reasons why.
You poem is an experience for me for I watch you play with length of lines and learn, I see a happy metaphor transition into the somber thought of the cool touch underground. You know what is funny? I was underground this week on a high heat day, and the ambient temperatures above, below, and back up again were tell-tale.
My next poem! It Is light-hearted and about a . . . ah! I won't say. I am looking it over now and shall finish it promptly-and post it. Red and Blue.
Oh, I am sorry to hear of a second loss, Cal! That is very sad and I wish you strength in coping. Please accept my condolences.
Let me share a secret with you regarding my poems - I NEVER think when I write. Any rhythm that emerges, comes of its own accord. I feel my poems, not think them. They are born of intense feeling, of vivid images, of reactions and responses, and words come without even conscious thought. I can never write on command. At least, it won't be a real, authentic poem and anyone who knows me and my poetry, will immediately know the difference.
But I think my feelings have evaporated in these past few months. When I feel this numb, I cannot create anything. Zilch.
Oh I am fine. My faith sustains me. And my loved one and I shared so much in spirit between us. A 'thunderclap' statement in my faith, which spoke to me so many years ago, is when I caught the spiritual meaning in Luke 20:38. "God is not the God of the dead, but of the living. For to God all are alive." This speaks volumes about a mystery. . . .
Regarding writing untethered and with feeling I will try it in the wrap-up of Red and Blue. Already, your insights in this poem above are laying tracks out for me to roll across. A bright horizon is ahead.
The "connective tissue" of roots to finding life-force in dirt is powerful. The mixed purposes of casting our bodies down into dirt is both sadness and sanguine.
Dear Brother, Friend, and Treasured Writing Partner Calbab: You wear your full rich heritage well.
Your record of service to one and all speaks for itself.
That it sustains you in times of personal challenge and crisis is well deserved icing on the cake of this life.
Peace and Abundant Blessings Always.
Enoch.
Brother Enoch, when I lay me down for a final continuing rest, whether my flesh cries over the pains in this life or laughs itself away over its ridiculousness, it will always stand with me that the most potent testimony to affect my living was the day I understood what a man insighted long ago: that, Enoch-of old walks with God. Mind-blowing.
Dear Brother Calbab:
Warm cyber smile and hug of fellowship.
Enoch.
Very nice.
Thank you, Ender.
Sorry I'm late with this - I've been off-line for the past two weeks (although it appears nobody noticed). Morbid thoughts, and at my age and physical condition they become more pertinent...a reminder no longer required.
I just saw it too.
Very nice Neetu2
Thank you, Pat!
I did notice, Buzz, because you always come by my poems. However, I assumed something might have kept you away as life often does. Thank you for noticing my poem. I am sure people here missed you. I don't come by so often myself, as you know.