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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: The Roaring Silencedots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: rws
    ASL Info:    57/m/ohio
    Elite Ratio:    8 - 2777/1297/258
    Words: 89
    Class/Type: Poetry/Misc
    Total Views: 1104
    Average Vote:    4.0000
    Bytes: 769



    Description:
       For poets that have passed.


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

    dotsThe Roaring Silencedots
    -------------------------------------------


    Do poets melt
    into ash
    as well,
    gather round
    slim perimeters
    of slivered gold,
    and sing of scepters
    laid aside, and
    crowns
    cast down
    heaped amid numerous
    shards of spells?

    Color
    texture
    community;
    blessings that
    appear possessed,
    bless me.

    On those occasions,
    do the sedentary
    dance, lift
    whispers from
    treetops,
    rise with lyres
    from ghost-pale
    shells, in angelic
    covenant?

    Perhaps with words
    as wings on wire,
    arrayed in a menagerie
    of color, bright slices
    of an ethereal thing;
    is this the song
    dead poets sing?




    Submitted on 2006-01-27 01:03:08     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

    Rate This Submission

    1: >_<
    2: I dunno...
    3: meh!
    4: Pretty cool
    5: Wow!




    ||| Comments |||
      this really is amazing to say the least, Bill. once again you prove to be the man. there is really noting that i can say here that has not already been said by another, but let me say this, that you work has touched me. to think that when we are gone
    (if we are blessed) that others will still be interested in our work is wonderful. to think when we are gone that we can still partake of our fancy is delicious.

    On those occasions,
    do the sedentary
    dance, lift
    whispers from
    treetops,
    rise with lyres
    from ghost-pale
    shells, in angelic
    covenant?

    bill, you are so inspiring in the way you craft your thoughts in such sublime subtlety and imagery. really i do learn so much from you. thanks again, bill. well, i don't want to babel, so i bid thee farewell.

    be blessed
    john-paul
    | Posted on 2006-12-06 00:00:00 | by rev.jpfadeproof | [ Reply to This ]
      "Well Bill, judjing by the numorouse comments on this page There's not much more I can say about this poem that hasn't already been said, other than 'Ditto'---I felt a kaliedascope (sic) of thoughts as I read it and the emotional impact which I believe was your intent. A thoroughly well wrote piece, and I hope many more will follow.----Mugs---
    | Posted on 2006-06-02 00:00:00 | by mugsy | [ Reply to This ]
      this is gorgeous, Bill. it brings these dead poets
    and words to life. i can't say much more than what has already been said.

    On those occasions,
    do the sendentary
    dance, lift
    whispers from
    treetops,
    rise with lyres
    from ghost pale
    shells, in angelic
    covenant?

    especially loving these lines. haunting and ethereal.

    a new fav.

    peace,
    ~Cat
    | Posted on 2006-02-26 00:00:00 | by magnicat | [ Reply to This ]
      Wow this is the first I've read of your work but it won't be the last...this was amazing...I love your choice of words and you really have a way with imagry. This was very unique and it had it's own style that no one could ever attempt to duplicate even if they tried. I'm not sure what to say except that I loved this and I can't wait to read more from you.
    peaceness
    | Posted on 2006-02-11 00:00:00 | by silent_death12 | [ Reply to This ]
      You manage a nicely constructed set of images here. As if your erector set is mantling in front of our eyes. And you pull it from the imagination, but don't quite hint on what we're about to see.

    The same kind of magic is in all of your writes, and not until the last two stanzas, do we find the completion, and I love these last stanzas too.

    On those occasions,
    do the sendentary
    dance, lift
    whispers from
    treetops,
    rise with lyres
    from ghost pale
    shells, in angelic
    covenant?

    Perhaps with words
    as wings on wire,
    arrayed in a menagerie
    of color, bright slices
    of an ethereal thing;
    is this the song
    dead poets sing?

    I wrote a piece comparing poets and their shattered hearts to a kaleidoscope at one time. I would have to find it again just to remember how I managed it. The bits of colored glass reminded me, great job, Bill thanks for the read.

    Nan
    | Posted on 2006-01-29 00:00:00 | by nansofast | [ Reply to This ]
      I disagree with Lost Sheep on this one I like the first stanza very much - but I don't like an 'ethereal thing.' Yes, I know the Romantics ect loved using the word, a favourite of Wordsworth for a start but Thing seems commonplace here when the rest was off soaring to the heavens and the sound is harsh in relation to the rest of the poem, nor do I like the rhyme 'sing' - 'thing'. But I wouldn't change anything else a really beautiful poem.
    love and peace
    Comradenessie
    | Posted on 2006-01-28 00:00:00 | by comradenessie | [ Reply to This ]
      Another phenomenal offering Bill.

    Certainly a subject matter that we here at elite can wrap our heads around. We probably ponder on those ghosts of a thousand hours more so than mere 'readers' of poetry.

    I couldn't finish the first read through of this poem, without pausing to re-read the second stanza a couple of times. It really jumped out at me as being especially expressive.

    Color
    texture
    community;
    blessings that
    appear possessed,
    bless me.

    You've accomplished a sharp turn of thought with those words. In a broader sense, it seems that our eyes follow the words downward...as our thoughts follow yours upward.

    It really is remarkable how you simply state our condition in the second stanza, while the others ask questions about it. I also think that you've accomplished a fine juxtaposition with the image of 'ash' in the first stanza...then the word 'ethereal' in the fourth.

    This poem is rife with phrases conoting spirit, and elevation, and inspiration.

    I have to wonder if "wire" should be "wires" in that last stanza...just a thought, i'm sure you've looked at it. Puralizing it would make the whole stanza perhaps seem too lispy.

    Oh well...onward and upward.

    This is one of my personal favorites of yours, so i'm going to favoritize it and see if that might lead one or two more readers over to it.

    Also...this poem has conjured some memories in me from some of those old ghosts (however unrelated perhaps)...thought i'd share them:

    "The world recedes; it disappears!
    Heav'n opens on my eyes! my ears
    With sounds seraphic ring!
    Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly!
    O Grave! where is thy Victory?
    O Death! where is thy sting?"
    -Pope

    "So when the last and dreadful hour
    This crumbling pageant will devour,
    The trumpet shall be heard on high,
    The dead shall live, the living die,
    And Music shall untune the sky!"
    -Dryden

    later,
    kc
    | Posted on 2006-01-27 00:00:00 | by twacky | [ Reply to This ]
      Hmmm, I guess I'm going to be the disenting opinion here. This one left me a little non-impressed. It's not bad, but somehow not hugely impressive.

    I think the problem for my admittedly biased eyes is that it just seems too flowery. Maybe I'm just too tech oriented and used to reading things that attempt to make difficult subjects simple. Still, I found myself rereading your first stanza four of five times to pick out the meaning. It's basically a 30 word sentence broken into 12 short lines.

    Don't get me wrong, I really like the image that's created. It just seems like the words are a little needlessly complex.

    Steve

    | Posted on 2006-01-27 00:00:00 | by Lost Sheep | [ Reply to This ]
      "Roaring Silence" is a good title if for no other reason than the surprise of it. Like buying a box of "101 Strings" and "Greatest Disco Hits" LPs on a whim, then getting home and finding "Big Brother & The Holding Company" in the middle of it.

    The last stanza is especially well crafted.

    -Frank

    ps: Is roaring silence the sound of one hand NOT clapping? ;)
    | Posted on 2006-01-27 00:00:00 | by FrankBlissett | [ Reply to This ]
      beautiful...very beautiful...so much meaning can be seen in this piece. the word flow was just amazing, it all just came together and bam! just beautiful. the speed was really fast and kinda died down at the end...im guessing that that was the roaring silence? this was a great write, definitely better than most of the stuff i read on here. and the title is catchy, it picked my interest...good job on that as well. i agree with Jason, there was great balance in the short lines of the second stanza. just perfect.

    ~Zach~
    | Posted on 2006-01-27 00:00:00 | by insphered soul | [ Reply to This ]
      To tell the truth, I thought I'd never find the chance to use the 'add to favourites' button.. But i did. This site has finally offered me the oppoturnity to do it. Twice!

    Yes, this is indeed outstanding, amazing, talented ..
    Remarkable work.

    At fist I didn't expect anything - the title seemed to me a promise of another average poem.

    I was absolutely blown away with the first lines, i don't know, drawn into the images you were so sleekly (an odd word, but perfect for my impresssions) creating...

    And then - the speed at which your poem flows. It literally takes your breath away, leaving you no time at all to linger behind, to think about this or that line, or image, because you want MORE. And it becomes all the more remarkable if you think about the fact that you're writing in very short lines, and usually they pause the poem, every now and then, making it all awkward. You didn't only avoid that, but somehow turned that to your advantage in building up the speed...

    but you slow down - towards the end of the last stanza - and that is the moment when you really understand the meaning of the title - 'the roaring silence' ...

    Bravo!...
    | Posted on 2006-01-27 00:00:00 | by expiring_touch | [ Reply to This ]
      This is outstanding work, Bill. Very good stuff! It has a beautifuly fluid sound to it and a simple strait-forward use of language that really shines with deeper meaning then the sum of its parts. I'd tip my hat if I were not indoors and had one on.

    It has the virtue of shimmering without any pretense, a good honest question that deserves to be asked even (and perhaps especially) because there's no real answer that can be had in this life.

    I especially like the use of the short, descriptive lines of the second stanza as on one level they attempt to penetrate a deeper feeling but also serve to ground the piece nicely, keeping it from getting too whispy in tone. Excellent balancing shown here.

    Jason
    | Posted on 2006-01-27 00:00:00 | by Jason The Basta | [ Reply to This ]
      Inane as it may sound it was the title that drew me to this; silence has been an occasional theme of mine. At any rate I’m very happy to have stumbled across this. You have asked for thoughts on this, although whether or not mine are of any value you will have to judge (for I often fear they are not), so here goes. First I would just like to get the typo of the way—I believe you meant “sedentary”, also “ghost pale shells” should be hyphenated “ghost-pale shells”. The words “as well” in the first verse distract me, I feel they are not necessary, for I find myself wondering “as well as what” and mentally start listing all the possibilities , or perhaps that was your intention? “Gather” does not require a capital. And I wonder if you would consider the use of another word for one of the blessing references, or perhaps you don’t need to say “bless me” at all...would that not be inferred from blessings? Anyways, those were just some thoughts that struck me and I may very well be way out of line.

    What I get out of this is an idea of almost benevolent presence of dead poets their essence very much alive and imparting their “songs” or as you said, "blessings that appear possessed…" for do not we all sometimes feel that we are merely a channel for some force that speaks through us? I see them gathered, lyres in hand, shedding their word-feathers which shimmer down onto us……ok, I guess I better stop. The more I think about this poem the more I love it. Thanks for putting up with my thoughts! ~chris
    | Posted on 2006-04-18 00:00:00 | by ponykeeper | [ Reply to This ]


    Think Feedback more than Compliments :: [ Guidelines ]

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