suspend and forget -------------------------------------------
I embed myself upon the notion that we will all be stars one day,
I succumb to frailty and desperation then.
A withering of feelings and knotted love are spread upon my field,
the moon must have its share of time.
Clickings and a sound from a faded frame spill riddles on my path,
I have been clay and mornings for too long.
Mirrors sing and dance the same to the balkings of a rusting rose,
a clefted mess of circular needs forlorn.
Rythms and beats feed the red filligree wired to the soul's system,
time to revert to the tuggings of another marionette dream..
The first line is so optimistic then the second is a crash followed by more of same. That's a big twist. Shift from the prospect of ulitimately being a star to being washed out by the "moon" which glares down from between the Earth and stars and thus overpowers and imprisons us to earthly existence? Day to day cycles of humdrum as programmed for now by the puppeteer... say it aint' so!
"Rythms and beats feed the red filligree wired to the soul's system" Nice line. Since a beat is also a rhythm, perhaps this is the beat of a tell-tale heart? Of course I am guilty of being over-analytical as usual, even when wrong.
All very thoughtful as per your usual, even if it sounds like the author is more frustrated than entertained by what is going on. Appreciate the awesome and there's never a dull moment. The "riddles on my path" can be fun but it also never hurts to ask for hints if you don't have a clue. Discovery releases endorphins even when the answers are not exactly right but that's kind of the end game anyway at this point. But that's just a personal opinion.
I think this piece offers a big, celestial ambiance. With scenary of stars, moon, sun, and "soul's system," I feel we're dealing with a setting as large as a galaxy. But it's really more on a personal level, right? It's a kind of way to describe the complexity of the human spirit. The tugging and pulling of each of our types of energy, a test of our will creates resolve or derives desperation.
The most visual and sensible connection I make with this poem is when you say "the moon must have its share of the time" and then in the second verse you state "I have been clay and mornings for too long". I feel that first quote is really more of a question, perhaps an ironic rhetoric to your latter statement, since the moon never gets its time in the morning.
"a clefted mass of circular needs forlorn" feels like you're alluding to the moon again. When I put it together like this, I really love the way its written and how the presentation of the poem is not easily understood without digging a little.
I feel like the last verse refers to another life or reality being born or presented, a new 'star' perhaps; it still feels vague to a point, like the rest of the poem, in earnest, but I'm glad I got to make some sense out of most of it.
things might be bleak now...and the clouds hide the moon...but the moon is constant...and will shine again....and even if life is tough for us, we will be stars one day...very hopeful piece with some nice wording.
one thing... "the moon must have its share of time"
but...i like the use of "embed" "a clefted mess of circular needs forlorn"
nice line...at times i almost found the wording to draw too much attention to itself..it is borderline...but the last line is a real kicker..."the marionette's dream"
that is a cool ending..the line before gets a little trippy...