Untitled......

Untitled.......



Dead buds on these limbs to bring forth a malice spring
bleached blossoms become a whiter shade of guilty red
                made heavy from the owl that landed in broken flight
my invisible noose to hang the sun that frames thy head.



This "nothing" is a place of placid belief with stale breath
cold bark decays and renews, like the shedding of sin
             soft cries billow forth, from a widow that mourns her lover
an amnesia fills the sky; forgetting when and how to begin.



Esoteric branches that touch the hallowed questioning
a perch for the soulless that seek asylum from the storm
            the bow breaks, another cradle will rock.....watch it fall
land softly, rain shatters like glass, my blood is lukewarm.

Reviews

[Stacey Watts]

Nature and life's renewal. So beautiful the words you created here. I read the most beautiful things in your poetry. I find myself with this one just in awe. I have to agree with the others here, your imagery is always fantastic. I love the journey. Thank you.

[J]

I love your use of font size and position, the poem looks amazing visually, evoking a subconscious flow of smoke or winding branches, as you read-- and the power of ending and beginning with something small-- it's like the softest words are made the most powerful-- I love it. And your imagery. Wow. I've seen conflicting images used as a device before, but I've never seen it done so powerfully and artfully. "malice spring" "noose to hang the sun" "blood is lukewarm" AWESOME. really awesome. And i love that you used the ....... to signal the significance of the title/titlelessness of the piece. This is really amazing

one question: did you mean to break "to" in the first sentence into two font sizes?

also, less of a suggestion than musing, but I wondered about the ending. The words are powerful and decisive-- the cradle breaking and shattering like glass signals a closure of sorts, but it's in the context of such powerful imagery throughout. As well, the rhythmic visual and verbal structure of the poem kept me waiting for the next swing of the pendulum. I would have expected you to end the poem asymetrically, with some sort of solitary moment like a verbal period or a doorstop, but you didn't go that route. I'm wondering if the reason you did that was to leave the reader in the limbo-like indeterminacy of the titular Untitled...... or if you just happened to want to end it symmetrically instead of asymmetrically.

[The Cobra Lounge]

I'm glad this poem amuses you...but I cannot give a good answer to any of your questions. I wrote this during a time when my physical pain was being managed by sythetic pain killers...I was in not so many words "under the influence" I did not understand what I wrote....one could compare it best to "Automatic handwriting" my words did not feel to be my own. When finished...for the first time ever...I could not even title it. So I left it untitled....it is supposed to feel unfinished I guess...I was going through a difficult period that had no solution or answers....

You strike me to be a technical writer, you used words I'm not even familiar with, like asymetrically, I didn't know that was an option in writing. lol

Thank you for your heart-felt review.

[J]

This poem is truly amazing! You really tapped into something here. You clearly had a good connection with your subconscious when you were writing it, maybe the pain killers helped! So much of the way we communicate is subconscious anyhow.

[Scottlehem]

The beauty of this poetess is in a deadwood that hallowed this early Spring and when the ides are upon her it glides in redolent pink. Thank-you for sharing!

[roarke]

The first and last stanza's/paragraphs exhibit a tango of duality. Imagery well blended with allegory and concept. Tasty stuff.

The middle stanza/paragraph is a somber sketch of feeling and actions. Again, all told through sonorous imagery.

In a word, artistic.

beautiful work.

[P.J.]

magnificent..so powerful in its form - you are one of the greats when it comes to word choice and placement.

why untitled though? one name that came to me was 'nevergreen'

isnt that childrens rhyme strange - the cradle will fall...poor thing!

[Melissa Edmunds]

Wow, you blew me away with this one. Amazing write. I loved it.

[Ed Fagan]

Oh how this is my kind of writing. I can feel this one! Nice.

[Art]

even without a title this poem holds one within a visual grasp, reading slowly one can find that emotional turmoil, sadness, and the loss of a will to live...

an amnesia fills the sky; forgetting when and how to begin...


nice work, pretty....

[David Scott]

If I did not know better I would think you are describing the hell of Alzheimers That is what I saw in literal translation. Of course you leave the door wide open for ambiguous romping.
Tally Ho

[The Cobra Lounge]

I wrote this under the influence..no joke. It was like automated hand-writing at it's finest. I still go back to read it every now and then and think..huh?

[Nautili]

My dad has recently been diagnosed with Alzheimers, I reread it with him in mind....depressing but yes, probably accurate toward his perception about life.

[The Cobra Lounge]

to be neither here nor there...ignorant about time. Not such a bad thing if you really think about it. If losing my mind makes the aging process less painful...then so be it. What is sad...is the pain of family living with a spouse...a mother or father...and realizing that this person knows not their names or at times...even their faces.

[Sami Khalil]

I love nature and its beauty ... Well penned...

[Kristallo]

This was breathlessly powerful writing. You wander through so many glimpses of pain with a sweetly sardonic cadence, weaving for the reader a visual enigma that perspires the nonchalance of time, blending a palette of deepest melancholic hues that ache to hold onto their color.... "an amnesia fills the sky, forgetting when and how to begin." -That line so dazzled me and tinged the corners of my mind with the gray-scale of dimming isolation. It was beautiful. I can hear the soft cries moan to the breeze as I embarked on this struggle of emotional collapse.... excellent write. It was a pleasure.