The conundrum of poetry versus passivity

The conundrum of poetry versus passivity

A Poem by Beccy

I am lost to the rhythm of the tides,
beached trinkets from shipwrecks;
the accidental discovery that our
world had no sharp edges.

I am bound by moonlight,
ageless forests and mountains,
the ghost wolf's mournful howl
as it recounts the passing of centuries.

I believe in mass-energy equivalence,
that gold is precious, though not so precious
as the first heartbeat of a newborn child, 
without which, there is no future.

I comment from time to time that
our existence is perhaps mere fancy, 
the metaphorical equivalent of 
a celestial goldfish bowl;

that rock and bone break 
in equal proportion, and 
the sunlight striking my eyes 
was actually created tens of 
thousands of years ago.

And whilst all this is considered,
I chase rainbows, aping their colours;
trusting to luck that our divisive species
will kiss and make up, before some 
palsied finger presses the wrong button
and changes the rhythm of the tides forever.

© 2019 Beccy


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Wow...what a great set of observations and a fantastic piece of writing. The paragraph about existence being a mere fancy is epic. Reminds of people who think that this life is a simulation of some sort, although in my heart that is too cold and calculated. I would like to think that it was an accident over a simulation, the ability to think about these things is best thing the universe has given us. Not knowing and speculation can be as fun if not more fun than figuring a thing out. Loved this so much.

Posted 15 Hours Ago


I am of the firm belief that one person can make all the difference; and even if he fails, the mere fact that he tries is everything. If we never try, we'll never know success. While the walls seem to be crumbling down, if we fail to believe in the best in us, it could ruin the rest of us. The pendulum seems to swing back and forth. Hopefully, we'll find our moral compass and swing the other way again soon. I loved this.

Posted 3 Weeks Ago


Beccy

3 Weeks Ago

Sometimes it seems hopeless though, doesn't it, stemming the tide, which Canute showed as a humbling.. read more
Wow Beccy - I'm very jealous!. You have written a poem full of wonder and wisdom. I think that we are the conundrum. We have the ability to understand nature and control it to our purposes but fail to live in peace with each other and harmony with nature. You have some stunning metaphors such as the 'rock and bone breaking' one. One tiny suggestion (I was a physics teacher!) - change sunlight to starlight if you're talking about years ago. Just a thought - it's really or leaders that have to kiss and make up! Most of us common folk get on ok.
Great writing!
Cheers,
Alan

Posted 3 Weeks Ago


Beccy

3 Weeks Ago

Thanks alan, appreciate your really kind review and your suggestion. Think I'll stick to sunlight th.. read more
alanwgraham

3 Weeks Ago

You are right Beccy! I forgot this was poetry and not a physics exam!
Beccy

3 Weeks Ago

Bless you. My uncle is a retired head of of physics, he would doubtless have made the same comment. .. read more


These words together are incredible.. What an absolutely excellent poem you have crafted here
Nuff said... Neville

Posted 1 Month Ago


I think poetry is its own kind of action/reaction when properly wielded. A poem like this creates a space for discussion and awareness and maybe sets off a lightbulb for some reader. But you’re never didactic or damning, so there’s this openness in the confession that allows the reader to relate rather than feel chastised.

We are mostly dreamers and thinkers. Those things that come easy, and for poets and artists dreaming and thinking is the domain where we feel most at home. But your poem offers us a small glimpse into the importance of not just feeling mournful or worried, but maybe stepping out and seeing what the poet might do- outside the mind.

That was my take, in reading just now, at least. I love the way you offer a sense of history and civilization and then turn inward to make it about the individual in the grander scheme. I thought this was an excellent poem, Beccy.

Posted 1 Month Ago


Beccy

1 Month Ago

Yes, stepping out is what we should do more often; individual comfort zones and trusting to luck so .. read more
What a write, what amazing thinking. Perhaps wrong but think this is one of the most philosophically generous pieces of writing i've read in the cafe over eleven years. Not only have you presented glows of fantasy, imagination but emotions mixed with truth.. and so so much more, Becky. Could read this over and over and still not touch completion. Can only say an enormous thank you for writing such superb lines and giving this reader more than 'something' to think about. Hugs.

Posted 1 Month Ago


Beccy

1 Month Ago

Blushing here. X
emmajoy

1 Month Ago

Laughing, must be the sun... lucky you! Sorry, didn't meant to embarrass you, know i can seem fuls.. read more
Beccy, what you've captured here in a few masterfully crafted lines is the ephemeral and fragile existence of mankind (as we know it). We're mere guests on this planet, specks in endless eras, though we see ourselves as masters of the universe. Such fools we are. And, your "celestial goldfish bowl" is the ideal image to illustrate that point.

I look forward to reading more of your work.

Posted 1 Month Ago


A touching read, and one of the first I have looked at after too long away from Writers' Cafe it seems appropriate I would land on one of your poems Beccy. I have much catching up to do.

Posted 1 Month Ago


Simply gorgeous for many reasons. All of which I cannot list because you have done it already.
The poetry of a life. The thoughts of an artist. Do they actually exist? The words of a poet attempting to understand their own art. The painting in words of all the emotions that are relevant. A favourite piece of true art.

Posted 1 Month Ago


Man was destined to extinct himself, infact I would go as far to say we've taken a perfect planet and ruined it. But we're here, so I assume we're here for some reason. In saying that, the earth really is pretty perfect in every way, like someone knew what they were doing when they created it. I'll hazard a guess, bob the builder wasn't the main contractor. That's one deep poem, Beccy.

Posted 1 Month Ago



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Added on October 2, 2019
Last Updated on October 2, 2019

Author

Beccy
Beccy

Northampton, Northamptonshire, United Kingdom



About
I'm forty two, single and have a lovely thirteen year old son called Charlie. I've been writing poetry and short stories since I can remember. I have always been an assiduous reader of poetry and real.. more..

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