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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Come Awaydots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: TD
    ASL Info:    34/f/Aust
    Elite Ratio:    8 - 92/81/21
    Words: 362
    Class/Type: Poetry/Misc
    Total Views: 767
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 2383



    Description:
       Okay, I think this might be a bit confusing. I tried to draw on a concept with both a personal and broad reference, but I don't think I have been very successful. :( Perhaps I need to expand on it or be more direct in some parts. Anyway, I've posted it for feedback, and hopefully, after some reflection I can come back to it later for a bit of editting/reworking. Thanks in advance! :)


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    dotsCome Awaydots
    -------------------------------------------


    Come away, away from the threads
    Where the fall of midnights past softly tread
    Like a wisp of wind unsheathed in stalks of rye;
    Come away, from shadows half-grown and threatening,
    The old ones muttering
    Of iron-clad promises etched in the blood of earth
    And dark, sweaty youths who proved their worth:
    Now, shattered on the stumps of gums,
    And one too many rums
    To lend a hand where there are none.
    Come away and leave what has been done.

    Across the paddock he watches the sky
    Waiting for another dreamtime.

    Come away; Oh please, I pray
    For there's no escape once he looks your way
    With a memory that reaches to the end.
    Come away, back to the warmth of arms,
    The sweet whispered balms
    Of what tomorrow's break will send
    And for a time you'll forget again:
    Humming voices sing animal stories
    In ancient words,
    While dirt and dust, kicked up in dance, reveal past glories;
    Twisting, beating, vibrating
    Into the earth, sealing.

    Across the years he listens to lies
    Waiting for the promised dreamtime.

    The air drops another notch as the grey mist glides and sniffs
    Along dewy fields, fluttering at the edge of window frames,
    Butting its head, softly; tapping a warning of our refrain.
    Resting beyond the corners of light,
    Silently tasting the day before.
    And others tighten their hold on rugs of down,
    Lest it slip by and find them there;
    But the grey chill retreats with old dreams.
    The house falls back to sleep.

    Lids lowered and shallow breathing,
    I take the time to scan the evening
    Like a she-dingo with her pups.
    Still, regret wells in narrowed eyes,
    For all that I had not tried–
    When his link to the land he severed
    And wandered alone, weary and so long fettered,
    By a promise we made to care and create
    Of lofty intent–
    Too late.
    The lore and the land left behind with an unspeakable question:
    "Oh, what have we wrought?"
    Come away now! I beg of thought.

    Across the baked, red earth he feels it die,
    And lowers his eyes
    For the loss of dreamtime.




    Submitted on 2005-06-06 10:38:45     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      I like this, maybe because I have a elementary understanding of the ancient aboriginal
    dreaming stories the connections between nature and man and have always had a interest in story telling, if only I had half the memory I think maybe I have become to dependent on the written word. I like what you already have but look forward to the rewrite.

    Terence McGovern
    | Posted on 2005-06-06 00:00:00 | by mcgovern_xiii | [ Reply to This ]
      Well, I'm not sure. I know I like the style and the language, which sets a dream-like mood. I perceive this is about dreaming (or dreamtime) and how someone has been removed from a culture where such is important. I see an old custom yielding to modern ways. I especially liked these lines:

    "Come away, back to the warmth of arms
    The sweet whispered balms
    Of what tommorow's break will send
    And for a time you'll forget again

    Maybe, it's the near rhyme that intrigues me.

    I am somewhat confused as to what is happening. It's as if there is something I do not understand. Maybe it's cultural, and I could not suggest a cure, unless somehow you could make it more explicit and less culture-dependent. What is the believed significance of "dreamtime"? We guess this is aboriginal culture, but it's not obvious.

    I liked the style, it was dreamlike. The bits of dreams you showed worked well. Lost who "he" was referring to in places. Were their two men, or just one?

    This is very original, and with some help for us aboriginally illiterate, will become a beautiful and dreamy poem.

    Phil
    | Posted on 2005-06-14 00:00:00 | by phil askew | [ Reply to This ]


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