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We whistled for the words that would not hearken as every solid sound began to soften then the echoes whirled as each word danced while the void whispered 'leave meaning to chance' |
while the void whispered 'leave meaning to chance' I often find that the more control we try to have on things the more, it, er, slips through our fingers. not that the human body and mind can't train and be trained and accomplish great things, not that poetry doesn't take practice, but that the meaning, grr. The best of poets is just a highly accomplished medium, letting the world flow through. There's room to disagree with that, certainly. | Posted on 2012-05-26 00:00:00 | by lukewarm | [ Reply to This ] | Hi Bill, | No critique here, just impressions. It makes me think of the feeling when thinks you've always been sure of get fuzzy and questionable. When the solid foundation begins to give way to changing times, changing rules, changing meanings. I could be wrong, but hey, it works for me. annie | Posted on 2011-02-12 00:00:00 | by annie0888 | [ Reply to This ] | wind passes through the chimes under my eaves, | still all is silent | Posted on 2010-10-11 00:00:00 | by latentlylyrical | [ Reply to This ] | A penny whistles down emptiness and so echoes behind it a chiasmic hallway that which some believe is best expressed as another dimension though the infinite breadth of possibility perhaps holds more beauty and function than the ubiquitous temptations one may find within defining truth as linear. | | Posted on 2010-08-23 00:00:00 | by cornonthekob | [ Reply to This ] | Sorry, this is not Ron. | | Posted on 2010-08-22 00:00:00 | by rws | [ Reply to This ] | Thank you for this. I am going out to the store now to scribe it on a golden flask. Should I quote it as simply 'rws'? | Ronswords could it be? MyX | Posted on 2010-08-22 00:00:00 | by MyX | [ Reply to This ] | I think this is about writing. | It's about when you sit down with pen and page, with the undeniable thirst to create, but the words just won't come. No matter which angle you try, the words just do not happen, or refuse to come in the order or the way you might have imagined. I think this is your way of telling us to just let it flow, without worrying about structure, rhyme, or meaning. That this is said in such a simple and concise way speaks to me too; perhaps this is the ultimate statement about just letting what will be, be. I think the patrolman is really patrolling his mind, searching its halls for poetry. and the echoes whirled as each word danced while the void whispered 'leave meaning to chance' | Posted on 2010-08-22 00:00:00 | by Soul-Hugger | [ Reply to This ] | Nice little two-line, four stanza structure. It looks neat and tidy, and your choice of words seems to be very deliberate. I have to admit to not really being sure what the hell you're talking about here, but that's undoubtedly just me being dense. I guess I have this visual of a patrolman walking his route, alone and being very aware of it, the silence weighing heavy enough that he feels the need to break it with his whistling. Then you have that strange occurence when you're by yourself and you become convinced that you heard something -- an innocent noise in daylight when you have company -- but now it's vaguely ominous and it means something. You are forced to go investigate, which is always a mistake, because it ends up being something crap rather than the profound thing you wanted it to be. Eh, I'm just rambling here. | I didn't like the use of 'hearken'. It felt a little clumsy. But that's just a personal take. I doubt you'd want to change it, or even if you could. Overall, it was short and sweet, just like this comment. | Posted on 2010-08-21 00:00:00 | by Jacoby | [ Reply to This ] | |