time the famous libertine -------------------------------------------
time leaves empty beds
to be reborn at dawn
fresh and forgetful
catches the last ship out
by the harbour seagulls
swoop and whoop
like old movie Indians
between dusky blue land
and disappearing sea
in a musky bar
he plays a bone piano
all the songs rattle like skeletons
there’s a hint of Bukowski
on his breath
accordions and trombones
squeak and weep harsh goodbyes
Friday was funeral day
now the lovers waltz with ghosts
hide lonely fears beneath the bed
this town used to shout
and yelp in drum roll at the dance
of flowing gold in tawny taverns
as he plucked out from the ivory
teeth of sirens the damp chords
of magic shores and infected whores
but tides change and chaos
naïve as a wild beast quickly tamed
will sink giddy into the grasping arms
of those rampantly reputable
the ocean can never remain
the same blue it was yesterday
and death will always be waiting
with a pompous frown of impatience
by the pier where damp wood
swallows carved initials
the ocean can never remain
the same blue it was yesterday
and death will always be waiting
with a pompous frown of impatience
by the pier where damp wood
swallows carved initials
Friday was funeral day
and flowers are given
but no longer received
and the sea is breathless
ravished by time
the [censored]
I don't really know what to say...other than I concur. We're all just fuel, the food for time and its racing, its maddening progress that gives no reprieve, one way or the other. Its crashing waves slowly erode our skin back into the sea, and in this way the sea slowly grows larger, just as with each passing year students will have a tougher time in History class.
i like the difference in this piece from when i first saw it to this.
i like the sound words that float throughout this piece [i realise theres an official term for it... onomatopoeia perhaps...] that give depth to the happenings and appeal to the senses of the reader...
time and death... love and death... life and... oh well... stunning weaving of imagery right throughout icky.
i get so jealous of you these days... jealous indeed.
i adore the way the first stanza so effortlessly blends into the second one as if theyve been engaged in this affair for years and they know everyone knows but everyone doesnt know they know they know... yeah... thats what im talking about... beautiful.
but of everything in this piece that i adore i would have to say that :
in a musky bar
he plays a bone piano
all the songs rattle like skeletons
there’s a hint of Bukowski
on his breath
takes the cake.
i love the way the piano is a reoccuring feature of this piece though seen in a different light and playing a different tune each time. it is very effective. here you have the piano so bone dead and lifeless... the tune it plays is dull and slightly obscene...
bukowski on his breath.
well bukowski isnt for everyone. i remember when i first started going to the gym i was in love with bukowski. i couldnt put down my book of his and so i was on the cycle or the cross trainer reading bukowski out loud [the only way to read poetry] and laughing at his geniusness [and how potty i must have looked LOL]
bukowski... horses, crappers and whores... doesnt seem like a nice thing to have on your breath no matter how faint...
i love the way you simply apply a different bone to the piano and you have a different sound... ivory... precious... beautiful... smooth...
you wanna know what the silly thing is icky...?
when i read this piece all i can see is a small country and western saloon scene with the cactus and the empty town with the dust swirling in the wind... but somehow its right beside a beach haha. thats the silly part...
i think i am crazy.
i think time really is what you say he is...
yep, pretty amazing. one of the best personifications of time i've read. "time the famous libertine" is just a great phrase. nice allusion to bukowski, and the alliteration was a well-used effect. and i love the ending, with the last line off by itself.
can't say much in the way of criticizing here, so i apologize. i usually do, and i know this isn't really helpful, sorry, hmm. i srsly wouldn't mind buying a book with poetry like this.
amazing lines about death:
"and flowers are given
but no longer received"
it's like I've been there although I never set foot in that place... superb, i must say :_)
have an ace rest of the summer! i'm freezing my behind off here... and to you that would be a mild winter... hahaha
Wow, this took something from me when I read it. I love it, it speaks so ture. Nothing I've read has every personified time like this, linking Time and Death so close together, to almost the same thing. It was brilliance the analogies you used. I love it.
Be well,
~Azura*
Submission Name: time the famous libertine
