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    dots Submission Name: Morning Arrivesdots

    Author: saartha
    ASL Info:    27/F/US
    Elite Ratio:    4.01 - 230/393/145
    Words: 45
    Class/Type: Poetry/Misc
    Total Views: 1190
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 378

       What? Did I really never post this here before? That can't be right. This is one of the favorite form poems I've ever done, though it's a full year old now. Don't necessarily feel the need to comment, I just thought I'd share an older piece that I neglected beforehand.

    Done in the Fibonacci Sequence (syllable count of 1 - 1 - 2 - 3 - 5 - 8 - 13, and then in reverse).
    Bodhidharma cut off his eyelids because he accidentally fell asleep during a nine year meditation session. It's said that his eyelids fell to the ground and grew into tea bushes.

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

    dotsMorning Arrivesdots

    The sun has
    sifted through low clouds,
    sliding against the horizon
    like orange-red drops of tea scattered by careless hands.

    We wake softly, lacking Bodhidharma's contrition,
    to take in the quiet of dawn
    and inhale cold winds

    Submitted on 2008-10-14 06:17:02     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    Rate This Submission

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

    ||| Comments |||
      I'm writing a lot of aubades at the moment, so to come across this, with all these legends woven ever so quietly through it, the bands of bright coloue, it's just what I need at 8 am on a Tuesday.

    I think this fibonacci sequence suits your theme well. I don't feel like you struggled and came up with forced detals whatsoever. You have wriiten this with a masterly touch; each line is a poem within itself, even the one syllable lines.

    'Night falls apart' is just gorgeous, and a striking image.

    I like the idea of sliding juxtaposed with tea scattered by carelss hands. Something about a sun moving with deliberation, but the rays which pass throuch clouds, painting them this orange-red, it does feel random. And that line makes me think of clouds as solid, which I guess to sun rays they are, they are only tinged this colour at their peaks.

    The movement into waking is lovely, and the blue ending, with the sun already rised, the cold day in spite of the sun. It's lovely.

    I got a lot from this piece.

    | Posted on 2010-09-21 00:00:00 | by AlyRose | [ Reply to This ]
      I've never heard of this poetry form nor of the guy who worshipped the sun. This poem form shows that poetry is more than a run-a-long string of words. Poetry is the art of language which kisses the mind into an embrace of touring jungles of words never explored for their beauty of sculptured forms. Great job you have done.
    | Posted on 2008-12-05 00:00:00 | by realpoet | [ Reply to This ]
      Contrition is a word I just love. I love the way it sounds, the images it invokes, everything about it really.

    [in fact, "c" is a good letter - callous, contempt, complacency, centrifuge; but I digress]

    I love the "sliding" in that it implies - subtly - the slicing of eyelids. Or at least, it does when I read it. Maybe I'm doing that artificially?

    "orange-red drops of tea" is great because it makes something tired and dusty move like a new limb. Or something.

    (sometimes I worry what I say doesn't make a lot of sense to anybody but myself)

    I mean orange-red is a good thing anyway because of the "back story" to this piece...not in the least of which because it could be blood in any number of ways (sunlight reflecting on it, candle light, and what ever else).


    I love sifting and "against'' placed next to "horizon". Not in, with, through, but at least a slight suggestion of opposition.

    Sifting, again, is great because it makes something tired wake and alert. It's such a breath of fresh air - sifting through clouds - it makes me think of those days when I'd walk through the woods to the deep deep dark green spots...and see actual rays of sunlight pierce through thicket and splash down onto the soil at my feet.

    It was beautiful (though back then my light sensitivity wasn't as profound).

    Taking in cold winds sticks out because I keep imagining him with his eyelid-less eyes and them blistering and cracking in the wind. I suppose you could see that as harsh arid dry but I see it as crushingly cold.

    Excellent work, too, at telling his story without telling his story.

    God I ramble.

    | Posted on 2008-11-27 00:00:00 | by Fizzlethorpe | [ Reply to This ]
      I like this one a lot. It reminds me of my own poem "Node exploding" I've used something very similar in there. Although I don't know much about the Fibonacci Sequence, I like this poem. Keep up the good work
    | Posted on 2008-11-21 00:00:00 | by Paradox | [ Reply to This ]
      Wow...I'd never thought of using the Fibonacci sequence for poetry before. Just goes to show that poetry is more than just words and emotion: it is also math, science, language, philosophy, etc.

    Poetry is the profession of kings and queens.

    Example? Aztec King Nezahualcoyotl. Beautiful poet.

    This piece felt like an extended haiku. I've never heard of Bodhidharma before, but it seems to fit very well with the structure of the piece. I love it when the length of the lines gradually increases, creating a visual slope. Awesome. I like to do that sometimes.

    I should do it more often. And I think I'm going to try to write a poem like this, using the Fibonacci sequence.

    You are freaking amazing.

    | Posted on 2008-10-16 00:00:00 | by AsiaticFox | [ Reply to This ]

    so i was here yesterday and faved this without leaving a comment because i didn't want to leave, you know, a bunch of oooos and awwws. but today? today is the day for leaving non constructive gushings... i'll keep it short.
    this image of night falling apart: so inviting, ushers me in with high expectations of something big about to happen, and it does. morning wakes up, stretches, yawns, looks around and everything is alright. crisp and alright. that's big.
    this is just so, gentle. i can see and feel the morning on my face and i don't need to cut my eyelids off to do it.


    anyway, told you so...
    ps- extra bonus points for adhering to an actual form.
    not a lot of people on here doing that anymore. myself included.
    | Posted on 2008-10-14 00:00:00 | by ever | [ Reply to This ]
      across blue moors, maybe violet,
    a touch of silver and quiet.

    here, amongst tea leaves,
    i sign each leaf
    with that moment

    when compassion hits
    a dragonfly's wings

    scanning the river
    for ripples.

    outward calm.
    fleeing sacraments

    with a hush.

    the fibonacci sequence goes hand in hand with this: that whole golden ratio, perfected conch-shell geometry which is evident everywhere in nature.

    there is a quiet beauty in this, a quiet reflection which resonates with me here; a meditative vibe which is quite apparent and very calming and soft, yet bristling with the lightest touch.

    very velvet.
    | Posted on 2008-10-14 00:00:00 | by meoww | [ Reply to This ]

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