In Poetry

entry picture

 

In poetry, autumn is approaching death.

The mists of receding memory

part briefly in the shortening days

to feed the fruits of wisdom

to admiring young.


The dark night of winter

is a short blight

before life springs forth

again in proud perfection.


Floral beauty and rich crops

have spread their radiance,

fed their progeny, sown their seeds.

Done their job, returned to earth

to rise again on the day ordained.


In poetry, frail Fido flees this life

to bound in celestial joy

gnawing on eternal

bony succulence.


In poetry we are transported

through words of beauty

to a wondrous place.

Poets wring rays of glory

from the language

of a mundane life.


POETS LIE!


Poets do not go gentle to that good night.

They rage and rage against the the dark

for poets know what poetry does not

that strutted, fretted hour

is their only part.

autumndeathgrowthpoetryresurrectionwinter

◄ Harry

Copenhagen ►

Comments

Profile image

Malpoet

Wed 16th Dec 2009 21:28

Thank you for all the kind comments. Thank you also to Thomas, Shakespeare et al.

<Deleted User> (7164)

Wed 16th Dec 2009 21:00

I'll refrain from adding to the eternal dis-believers or should i say ''infernal dis-believers'' comments.
I will add to the wonder of this awesome poem.
Well done.

Starlight.x

Profile image

Cynthia Buell Thomas

Wed 16th Dec 2009 16:57

Rich, and richly challenging. 'In poetry ... etc. mundane life' - pure 'romantic' lyricism - lovely to read, hear, feel, as was the whole poem. The contrast was very effective as you slung your last lines like a lyrical hammer. Very enjoyable.
Darned if I would have gone all off about atheism though. What am I missing? Could this be a case of preconceived ideas due to personal acquaintance?
We humans are such complex creatures, and poets simply parody the common psyche. The real danger is thinking ourselves unique.
Is 'imitation poetry' a big deal? I've seen others also.

Profile image

Gus Jonsson

Wed 16th Dec 2009 14:50

Oh Yes Yes Mal...straight into the light... follow it down the white tunnel..turn left at the big blue door... straight in to the 'Choice Room'... '

What ya goin back as?'

Last time it happened to me I was a gazelle... "

Came back as Gus jonsson

Profile image

kealan coady

Wed 16th Dec 2009 13:25

good stuff, i think you captured a lot of what the poet is.

"before life springs forth
again in proud perfection" nice use of language.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message