Exasperation

I do not wish to
I do not wish to
I lie on the slopes
Witness the sky

But the stray feathers
Come with their own fur

Light on the mountain
--the air gathered
Light from mist
I cannot gather it all

It is all John Keats
John Keats under the hill
John Keats: Prelude to a Dream
John Keats, I can’t keep up with
John Keats and the butterfly membrane

I will light a candle
For John Keats
And hope the moon will stand still

Peter, this one made me look back into the archives, Keats was not one of my favorites of that era, but thanks for sparking some nostalgic research.

Les

Hah, Les. He's always been an inspiration to me; "La Belle Dame sans Merci" - I can't get past that hill. He was the early poet before my youth. The early death before his maturity. Never mind revisionist history. "I weep for Adonis-he is dead!"

Actually this poem sprung from the image of the fur on the bird's wing...the exasperation sprung from not having the wings of imagination. I wonder if anyone will write that poem for him: Prelude to a Dream!

cheers,

Peter

Thanks for the explanation Peter, I've read Keats'work and my first impression was that he was overly sentimental. Now that I've read more widely many different poets and have noticed many different poetic styles, sentimentality seems to be a trait more attributable to youth than to
Keats.

Les

don't do what you chidded Tom for.

I hear you, Merc. I found myself waiting for poems to be posted by our friends...and waiting...and waiting...and found myself spouting out like a damn fountain that morning, so I just let it go, hoping others would post poems.

Oh well, I do like to write. And I like having others read it. So I am full of contradictions, though I try not to be a hippy-crit. I would limit myself to one a day if everyone else would meet that quota.

Hope all's well with you. Thanks for trying to keep me in line.

Cheers,

Petr

Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 05/28/2009 12:48AM by petersz.