Fields

Don't want to write because I recognise

the horizon

I know the colours well black is

not a colour but I know it well,

 don't

reach too deep inside, you'll find no

smiley face but the shadows

of the heart

fragile but unmoveable

breaking but unstoppable

carousing within bone held confines

trying to shatter me free feeling almost

snake like/ belly hugs the 

floor

live a death a moment trying to 

survive for all the moral reasons a monster

                            remains

I want to bite the arms that feed and try and

fill the hole

                                     the more I eat the more

it swallows, the more I understand a delicate

reminder

of postcards from the edge on the edge of

nowhere

with nothing left behind emptiness is closer

a step into                        time

I turn my back and mount the beast

a ride without end

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

well this is certainly one way to cope with the darkness in us...get on its back and ride it...
some also feel that black is a combination of many colors...so there could be hope there.
I really like how you personified the darkness and had it hug the speaker....wrap its arms around him.
wonderfully done.
j.

[gram linski]

thanks, j. aye if you can't beat the beast you might as well take it for a ride deeper into the forest of night, thanks again

[Chris Shaw]

Doing battle with darkness, that's how I read this gram. Blackness, shadows, snakes and the beast. That sums up all the nasties that lurk inside. I much prefer the smiley faces, but this isn't their turn. Could almost feel a bout of depression coming on here. You certainly created a dark mood and did it well too.

Chris

[gram linski]

thanks, Chris, I thought it was quite a cherry affair, lol,

[Eilis]

Another suggestive title. I know we have different methods for choosing titles, mine is quite convoluted, so forgive the blabbing about titles. I like this one because it lends an organic, earthly counterpoint when the poem itself feels largely the province of the mind. And in offering that connection, it creates a setting in my mind.

World watching but in doing so bringing the world into the fold of thought and emotion. Allowing what is observed to become a reflection of the cities that inhabit the mind and body.

Your ending, and most of the poem, offer a sense of the apocalyptic. Something about to kick off and no willing thought to stop it. A recognition that darkness resides inside and black is the most understood color/not color. And finding a sort of comfort in all that.

I’d say the voice in the poem wants that recognized and acknowledged, and if the listener is capable of such, then perhaps the story will take a different turn. I don’t know. It feels like a dialogue, but also a monologue simultaneously. Perhaps the conversation is between two facets of self. Fields could be many things. As everything can.

I have no idea what I’m talking about, but I understand the impulse & invitation of that ride without end. Some things I find difficult to articulate, but there is a subconscious understanding.

I like the sort of earthquake meter mood that I sense in the words. Like the ground is shaking and only time will show how deeply things have been rattled.

[gram linski]

I know what you are talking about, Eilis, the impulse and invitation are a powerful drum beat dancing us in, and the earthquake meter is off the scale, a sense of the apocalyptic is my humorous side, the voice in the poem always wants to be recognised, it's the only way we can be heard, thanks again for the great review, Eilis,