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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: craft the daydots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: nansofast
    Elite Ratio:    5.7 - 2351/2103/268
    Words: 187
    Class/Type: Poetry/Misc
    Total Views: 1397
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1261



    Description:
       from notes I've written in the past weeks


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotscraft the daydots
    -------------------------------------------




    what is a day? the longings of a soul spent wisely
    like pennies in a wishing well; time's future thoughts
    composed of excellent memories

    between the rhythms, ancient ghosts seek healing
    I release them from skins and fire-licked skies
    send them toward heaven; so mysterious to me that
    they need our hell to transform into colors and use
    them to paint the sky. your heaven is real when it
    refuses to die in darkness.

    conscience tells me, I must enter your heart
    between beats, not intending to deceive,
    honor has swiftly rendered fools of many
    who pry open a shell to find a pearl
    believing they've found treasure, soon take flight
    love is not a question but a beautiful answer that does not leave


    you will find me inside the miller's grist
    a mist consumed by these lines
    my body weeps anthems to the stars
    I am obelisk thrust skyward, hungry
    for the sound healing makes as rivers
    pour engravings down tarnished sides
    ritual joy
    day love practice

    I craft the day on sheets of love.





    Submitted on 2006-10-25 20:38:16     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

    Rate This Submission

    1: >_<
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    4: Pretty cool
    5: Wow!




    ||| Comments |||
      I don't know how I managed to miss this!!!

    I don't profess to fully understand this lovely piece, but just wrapping myself in the music of the words is enough.

    | Posted on 2009-12-25 00:00:00 | by Maverique | [ Reply to This ]
      what is a day? the longings of a soul spent wisely
    like pennies in a wishing well; time's future thoughts
    composed of excellent memories

    between the rhythms, ancient ghosts seek healing
    I release them from skins and fire-licked skies
    send them toward heaven; so mysterious to me that
    they need our hell to transform into colors and use
    them to paint the sky. your heaven is real when it
    refuses to die in darkness.

    conscience tells me, I must enter your heart
    between beats, not intending to deceive,
    honor has swiftly rendered fools of many
    who pry open a shell to find a pearl
    believing they've found treasure, soon take flight
    love is not a question but a beautiful answer that does not leave

    you will find me inside the miller's grist
    a mist consumed by these lines
    my body weeps anthems to the stars
    I am obelisk thrust skyward, hungry
    for the sound healing makes as rivers
    pour engravings down tarnished sides
    ritual joy
    day love practice

    I craft the day on sheets of love.

    WOW!!! what a great write, nan! what i get from this piece is that all of us ought to live life to the fullest. you know, that is one of the burdens of God's heart for us. Jesus said in Jn. 10:10 that
    "the thief (devil) comes to steal, kill and destroy,
    but i (Jesus) have come to give life and that more abundantly". carpe diem to seize the day could be a another title of this poem. we all really do have the power to craft our days, don't we? making the best choices, such as, loving the unlovable, spending time with the shut inns, visiting the sick in the hospital, feeding the hungry etc. life is to short to do otherwise.
    heres to LIFE ...
    1jn. 5:12-13
    " 12He that hath the Son hath life; and he that hath not the Son of God hath not life.

    13These things have I written unto you that believe on the name of the Son of God; that ye may know that ye have eternal life, and that ye may believe on the name of the Son of God."

    excellent write. wonderfully full of a potent theme and images.

    Jesus bless you.
    john-paul

    this is going to mt favs.


    | Posted on 2006-12-12 00:00:00 | by rev.jpfadeproof | [ Reply to This ]
      This is absolutely beautiful! And I love your last line "I craft the day on sheets of love."
    Nan...this is most definately another favourite of mine! Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts!

    Lisa
    | Posted on 2006-11-24 00:00:00 | by Lisa-Marie | [ Reply to This ]
      She sighs

    Somehow your work leaves me grasping for words, and even when I babble at length I am not satisfied that I can import to you the true depth of my feelings. I have read this several times since I returned, ( ditto for many of your poems) and just have to tell you how much I love this one (ditto for many of your poems)

    The intro captivates with its question--- ["what is a day"--what is a year--what is a life?--]and leads smoothly to the second strophe with even more evocative imagery--- as you strive to provide your answer.

    “between the rhythms, ancient ghosts seek healing
    I release them from skins and fire-licked skies
    send them toward heaven;”


    [ God! I love those lines--seriously how can I comment constructively on this?] You follow with

    " so mysterious to me that they need our hell to transform into colors and use
    them to paint the sky."

    These lines make me think of a forge, a metallurgist's crucible--or alchemy, --a process where transformation occurs, --something common and ordinary is made precious. This speaks to me of transcendence , of flip-sides, or illusion and reality, and how thin , yet imposing the gap is between all opposites.

    Another fave line--"love is not a question but a beautiful answer that does not leave"
    But is it really?---just one or the other?-love is both , just as life and death are part of each other--and day and night,---you draw us these circles, in the skies with moonbeams and mists and all your words underline the mystery that is life.

    The last strophe was so vibrant and passionate,--you evoke emotional highs and lows , contrasts again-- with images that blend the physical and tangible with the more nebulous and unknown,-- a mystical abstract ride that leaves the reader to their own soul-searching while inspired by your strong affirmations.

    And ohhhh,
    "I craft the day on sheets of love."
    That is beautiful, --though I may not grasp exactly what you meant--I feel an empathy here, --your words are uplifting , and that after all loss/pain there comes a point when grief subsides and we gain a little more understanding of the nature of life and love,--and from there healing begins that we can truly celebrate each day, --each experience, --each person who has touched us.

    "The sheets of love "are all these things, and knowing that sets free the butterflies caged deep inside. In today's world it usually takes some grievous personal loss to give cause to reflect on these matters,--and even then some never find such serenity. Your poet's soul has sung to us all.
    Love
    Sallycat


    | Posted on 2006-11-14 00:00:00 | by Silverdog | [ Reply to This ]
      this is beautiful, Nan. i imagined you writing down these thoughts as you were watching your father go through his pain and eventual flight from this world..

    i love your last line, which wraps it all up so wonderfully..
    "I craft the day on sheets of love."
    the only way to live, really. even in the midst of sorrow and pain, we love, and that is the best way to heal ourselves on this earth, by loving..

    i see your work has evolved a lot in the last year. i know you've been through so much with your father being ill. it is times like this that bring life into a clearer focus and puts everything into perspective.

    excellent write, lady. i'd like to add this to my faves. it's great to read you again. your poetic gifts sometimes astound me.

    love,
    ~Cat
    | Posted on 2006-11-11 00:00:00 | by magnicat | [ Reply to This ]
      Okay... I've returned, after like a year (or so it seems), and realize I have little I can say beyond this is beautiful. I obviously have no nitpicks. But maybe, I don't know, you might consider moving:

    your heaven is real when it refuses to die in darkness.

    onto it's own line? It's such a powerful statement, I don't know, it feels like it should stand alone.

    But really... this is stunning. As is everything I've read of yours... I'm beginning to see a pattern...

    Justin
    | Posted on 2006-11-08 00:00:00 | by IamYourTragedy | [ Reply to This ]
      "your heaven is real when it
    refuses to die in darkness."

    I love this line. I think it is the center piece of this poem. I like your mature tone and style of writing, it shows years of practice. This poem is really good. I'm off to view your other poems...
    | Posted on 2006-11-05 00:00:00 | by Paradox | [ Reply to This ]
      This poem is not as well-crafted as most your work, and understandably so. I lost my brother-in-law last week, and just couldn’t write at all. How much closer a father is! “Between the rhythms, ancient ghosts seek healing”. Indeed.
    Having said that about the craftsmanship, this is still very fine. The images are admirable, and the editing required to complete this is actually minor. The emotional communication is so complete, it drags us along in its wake, welcome though uncontrollable. This is the core of poetry. Please take it as a compliment that I consider this one of your “lesser” works.
    Let me know how things are now.
    fred
    | Posted on 2006-10-31 00:00:00 | by fredmelden | [ Reply to This ]
      between the rhythms, ancient ghosts seek healing
    I release them from skins and fire-licked skies
    send them toward heaven; so mysterious to me that
    they need our hell to transform into colors and use
    them to paint the sky. your heaven is real when it
    refuses to die in darkness.

    That is just too cool. It's so full of great images. I suppose "they need our hell to transform into colors and use/ them to paint the sky" is my favorite. "your heaven is real when it refuses to die in darkness" is also very strong.

    conscience tells me, I must enter your heart
    between beats, not intending to deceive,
    honor has swiftly rendered fools of many
    who pry open a shell to find a pearl
    believing they've found treasure, soon take flight
    love is not a question but a beautiful answer that does not leave

    "conscience tells me, I must enter your heart
    between beats" is a very cool idea.

    you will find me inside the miller's grist
    a mist consumed by these lines
    my body weeps anthems to the stars
    I am obelisk thrust skyward, hungry
    for the sound healing makes as rivers
    pour engravings down tarnished sides
    ritual joy
    day love practice

    I like "the sound healing makes as rivers/
    pour engravings down tarnished sides" too.

    I like how this is built upon binary oppositions: that reminds me of Blake for some reason.

    Nicely done,
    Amy