Innocence

Very different from anything I have ever written Free Verse

    Innocence....

     Innocence flew by,

     like an old crow

     looking for a place to die,

     with a world to discover ...

     few moments to listen.

     She sought what she felt;

     yet, never found it;

     time rose up 

     like an angry whale ...

     her heart tore.

     In spite, she waited

     for a moment of reprieve,

     tossing her wishes away,

     as the whale

     swallowed each.

     Wanting more of her innocence, 

     the whale waited.

     Waters opened 'n flowed;

     still, the whale waited ...

     Time disappeared; 

     as did she ...

     with her innocence.

              ~~~

Author's Note

If you happen to pass by and read my poem I would appreciate a review. I always review whatever I read.
Thank you,
Lisa

Reviews

[Vol]

Lisa,
I've long wondered what the loss of innocence actually means. I remember back in 1967, 8, and 9, I lived in Pensacola, Florida with a coterie of brilliant, beautiful friends discovering weed, and acid, and reveling in this new paradigm of sex, drugs, and Rock-n-Roll. Claudia introduced two new innocents into our tight group, and they were gorgeous, laughed easily, and danced like crazy! They were both engaged, but never brought their guys around. Both got married in the same church at the same time, and disappeared. A year later, I had moved to Wisconsin and did the same.
When I returned to Pensacola, I wanted to show off my new friends to my former classmates and went to find Claudia. Her mom gave me her new address, an old Painted Lady divided into apartments where she shared rooms with those two girls. They were divorced, and broken" their faces were hard, and their eyes flat. Innocence lost. I wrote about it:

IN THE GARDEN

In the garden of rock and roll girls
I knew back then were the eyes of
innocent laughter ripe for the gathering.

The taste of living was honey
on their lips and thighs
when they smiled at us
to the sound of guitar
poetry painting fantasies in
the blue nights and yellow days
spent guileless in the garden of
rock and roll girls I knew back then.

They danced with us in the
smoke of our wildest dreams
breathless, bouncing hair
and the drum of burning blood,
a fire in the garden until midnight
when the harvester comes wearing
a jeweled grin to share with them.

He lives today around their
white necks and naked wrists
slit by the fangs of innocence.

As you can see, I have long been troubled by this "rite of passage." And a few minutes ago, I clicked on your picture again, but it wasn't the same one as accompanies this poem. In that one you are giving a great guffaw, and full of joy. The one here speaks better to the theme.
Hmmm. I wonder if commenting like this is what we are supposed to do, rather than an analysis or critique, "Why did you use that word? or What did you mean by that image?". But somehow It is a little richer, I think, to speak directly to the poet and the poet's thoughts and feelings, Something I can't do with D. H. Lawrence, or Charles Bukowski or any of those other dead ones. So, unless you tell me otherwise, I'll carry on. But with messages rather than here, because I'd love to delve into some of the images and thoughts in this poem.
I hope your shoulder is healing, and i understand the pain, and the limitations it puts on how much you can write,

[Lisasview]

getting late here now so I will respond tomorrow..just want you to know that I got your review..the time difference is a drag.
Lisa, still in stupid pain..no drugs now just red wine

[Vol]

OW! Lisa!
I can relate... It is awful, and even the deep knowledge that this will pass does nothing to help, even climbing into a warm comfortable bed hurts! Been there, done that!
Vol

[V.R.S.C.]

Both a powerful poem and top review. I have nothing to add. Thank you both Lisa and Vol for sharing!

[Lisasview]

Thank you so so much!
Lisa

[1809 Black Plague Decem..]

Hellos, Lisa, yes, I do love the metaphor of both an old crow,
that's searching for a place to die,
and the whale that cries,
the loss of innocence,
They arrr a' great images,
I mostly relate to the crow,
when time goes, an old man searches for a place to die, I read before,
great write, dear,
---1809 Black Plague December

[Lisasview]

Thank you so so much for your review.
I am delighted to now that you liked it.
isa, now in Spain

[1809 Black Plague December]

you are most welcome dear,

[emmajoygreen]

Read three times, understand why you asked me to read it. Need to think my way through your words Feeling my way: Whales are magnificent, exciting but oh so vast. So is life, its experiences. Thinking more: one learnss perhaps that what seems exciting is or can in fact be dangerous, damaging. The once titillating fun becomes too much, the need to escape is worse than cruel. Perhaps, believe me, it happens. Not sure if right or wrong but, innocence once lost, as is virginity, can never be regained. Once feasted, hunger means nothing?.

[Lisasview]

Good morning Emma Joy,
I love your take on my poem, Innocence. Your interpretation is wonderful and explained so well...What I love about metaphors is the interpretation of the reader.
I did write what my thoughts are regarding my poem...but they are just my thoughts.
This poem was written in a heartbeat with absolutely no corrections...I have no idea where these thoughts came from...I would love it if this happened every time I sit down to write, but, alas it does not.
The first two poems I posted last year were Hand~in~Hand and Pearls...you might enjoy those as well.
Thank you so much for your very good review,
Lisa

[emmajoygreen]

My real pleasure, Lisa. I read slowly, often three times. Sometimes fidgeting away to return and read in a kind of never seen before mode. Rarely walk away without reading because am not au fait with the academica side of writing, more from the emotional so can blather on for ages.. as am now!
Will read as many as can, promise. Have quite a ballancing act these days but, so love to read and read and read,,,, That said, have you read
The Hare with Amber Eyes: Edmund de Waa. Published a while ago but have only just read!?l

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

In decades past, a child's innocence was most often lost due to abuse, either by someone close or by someone allowed to be closer than they should. Now, our society, as a whole, has devolved into such soullessness that it's hard for anyone to remain innocent. I can relate to this poem on multiple fronts, and what I feel most of all is sadness. It's hard to accept a reality that you wish never were. Well done.

[Lisasview]

Thank you Linda for reviewing my poem. I enjoyed the metaphors that poured out of me as I wrote this.
Lisa, now in Spain

[Soren]

So layered in metaphors this poem bursts with meaning. My first thought was Melville's Moby Dick and the multiple metaphors of the inner self as well as the world. Then came the thought of the whale of technology and its effects on innocence. Once our eyes are opened there is no return to innocence. Like Jonah and the whale there is no going back. It is a death, symbolic or not. A wonderful write.

[Lisasview]

Oh goodness Soren, what an amazing review... I had a feeling you might like this one of mine.
Thank you so much for taking the tie read and review.
Lisa, getting ready to finish making fish stew...
Lisa

[Soren]

Most welcome

[Susan 🦋]

Oh how some children suffer in this world. It turn, repeat the cycle. It is the reality of this broken world. Strong write Lisa. Deeply felt.

[Lisasview]

Hi Susan,
I have never, ever written anything like Innocence before.
The words just came out of me in a gush.
Probably one of my very favourite writes thus far... Thank you for reading and reviewing.
Lisa

[Anonymous]

Hopes crushed not by a stone or hurtful words, but the simple realization that perhaps what you look for isn't real. Time and realization sweeps you away. And enjoyable read.

[Lisasview]

Interesting take on my poem. Because it is full of metaphors readers hear what they want to hear. This poem is so different from anything I have ever written. Woke up one morning and wrote it down...
Lisa, now in Spain

[Brad Dehler]

Brutal large irresistible irrefutable force. The whale. Waaaaoww, It is visceral, the loss of personal power being swept away. Feeling as if out of our element. Perhaps that old crow will feast on the beached whale. But it wont be able to extract the innocence back...

[Lisasview]

Hi Brad,
Your amazing insight into my little poem gave me chills... Thank you so so much.
read moreHi Brad,
Your amazing insight into my little poem gave me chills... Thank you so so much.
Lisa

[Brad Dehler]

Awesome! I am flattered by your compliment, by such an accomplished writer as yourself. You made my day :)

[Lisasview]

Wow..Accomplished… you say?
Until this past January I never posted anything I wrote and I although I had been writing for many years I never showed it to anyone.
I have never had any schooling in poetry or Sonnets.
So this is all new to me.
I am delighted that you feel my poetry and compliments are in someway special.
I love to write…
Lisa

[Brad Dehler]

your passion and skills shine through!

[Lisasview]

Another kind thing to say and for me to wake up to this morning...
Thank you again

[Brad Dehler]

Absolutely. Good morning and we are grateful to have you another day

[Scott Kris]

Great read hear. I love the whale metaphors. I was thinking how similar the vanity of Moby Dick and vengeance is to keeping our innocence.
Growth is not always comfortable. It’s not always in a good direction. Yet many things in life are indeed inevitable… far more than most people want to admit.

Thank you for sharing.

Scott

[Lisasview]

Nice to see you Scott and thank you so much for your review. This poem is very very different than anything I have ever written. I woke up one morning and it just poured out of me... so weird..
Lisa, still in Spain