Description: I rarely write descriptions but this poem demands it. In order to truly grasp it you must read it carefully and mind the punctuation marks. The ending line: "They whisper a prayer." is the right interpretation all by itself. I did this as a sort of practice cause practice makes perfect. It's inspired by Lith-Ium's work but it is also an unfamiliar ground to me.
Awake Anew A light {experimental} -------------------------------------------
Awake.
Your starlight's' broken,
Twisted fates - forsake
And run again - deplore -
This pouring ache;
Where it reigns
Tattered in it's quake.
Anew.
Still swarming hearts
Of the vehement - few
In trembling cold lie - atrophied -
Lips in blue;
For the ardent love
That their eyes pursue.
A light.
Before the symphony halts
And their dreams - still bright
Desert again - deter -
Their flight;
For the stillness
Of the hurricane night.
I love your vernacular. I honestly can't quite grasp its full meaning, and thats due to the fact that I don't know you, but it stirs within me a feeling that is throwing my heart asunder. It tore me down in this, my delicate moment. What is it about this that I can't grasp that mixes me up?
that was an absolutely lovely poem, very well written, i had to read through it a couple times to get a grasp on what it means, or at least what i believe it to mean as poetry is an abstract art left to the reader's interpretation, but the style was something different and the language marvelous
what i got was something along the lines of the first stanza speaking of a pain unexpected, the second of a love causing the pain, and the third hopes/ dreams are still alive yet continually disperse causing great distress
Understand it? no, not really. Do I like it? I love it! It is a highly lyrical piece of verse, short but very excellent. (I have long maintained that to like, or love poetry it is NOT always necessary that we should understand it, and I do have an example I could show you besides this piece...) bravo...
Excellent... hendiatris-licious. :) And yes, I might by too subjective. Since when is the muse allowed to critique the artist? It would be like critisizing parts of its own essence.
It inspired a feeling today. And I'll quote from my diary. (:P)
"(...) Different minds, different universes ... the diffuse light within the Theatre of Existence, lingering on the borders of each... I am alone. Was, am, ... will be. Like every Being stripped of delusions. The Self is much to important to be sold... to ideas, dreams, ... 'others'.
Yet I am able, no, entitled, to 'connect' from 'time to thought' to beings 'like minded'. To travel through, down and above, and beyond their universes... and then... awake... anew... a light."
(Don't worry, I gave you the credit for this triad. :) )
Submission Name: Awake Anew A light {experimental}
