There is no poem
flowing like wine
through the recessed
caverns tonight.

Unbridled emotions only...

running for their lives,
bareback,
through stone sober fields
under a pale man's moon

surrounded on all sides
by the equinoxes and solstices
of a million years,
beware the pull of the sea.

Stop at the river's edge
running bull, running bear
and find a song
in your reflection.

There is no poem tonight...
no flow of wine or feathered pen,
but distant drums
carve an endless melody.

Edited 3 time(s). Last edit at 11/20/2009 11:31PM by UPMarty.

Nicely done, Marty, I enjoyed this one. I like how you use the old timey figures of speech.

Les

Thanks, Les. I'm curious, though, what you find to be old time figures of speech as nothing within was intended to be. Once in a while, young people comment that they've never heard certain expressions I use in everyday language. I chalk it up to having had "older" parents who liked expressions and used them often. I'd hate to think it's just because I, myself, am old. lol.

Mary

I caught a quite haunting tone in this, a richness that repaid the reading.

Thanks,

Peter

Mary, I thought the reference to "running bull and running bear" were throwbacks to our native ancestors. That's what triggered that statement.


Les

Peter, thanks for reading and commenting.

Oh, ok Les. I suppose we are all related if we go back far enough.

Mary

Mary:
I take what Les was saying in a simalar way. The theme speaks to me about our indigenous heritage and ancient connections to the universe. (and not being organized or modern like a poem) Can't get any older than that.

It's a very beautiful statement throughout. I especially like "find a song in your reflection". That is a fantastic line and says volumes to me. It sounds like a full moon inspired it.
Steve

Mary
I really like this. Though the many different images are dizzying. Wine, Suns, stones, Indians, lots to ponder and contemplate.
Why both running bull and running bear? There is an old song called Running Bear. I googled it. Hadn't heard of it before.

I suppose this is a clear the mind kind of poem. And sometimes that is just the ticket.

Best,
Marflow

Steve,
I appreciate your comments. I may have mistook Les's comment to be addressing phrasing (figures of speech), rather than the context. Yes, I suppose it was reaching back. And, yes, I feel a strong influence of the moon (and sea).

Marflow,
Why both running bull and running bear? Your guess is as good as mine. My assistant is Native American and I have gained an appreciation for the culture. I appreciate the honesty of your comments. Poetry has sort of left me of late and this was an attempt to summon it back. Unfortunately, it didn't work. Maybe a google of the song will help.

Mary

Why don't you think it worked?

Les

UPMarty Wrote:

but distant drums
carve an endless melody.

I love this phrase particularly, and I'm not even sure why. I would say that like the far off rhythm, your poetry has not left, maybe just changed tempo.

Dan

Les,
Because the poetry still isn't coming to me. This was written in the spirit of a rain dance....a poem dance, if you will. I wonder if the natives had any expectations upon which they measured the success or failure of their rain dances? Like if the rains didn't come within two nightfalls, were they back to square one? Or if it sprinkled lightly for two minutes immediately after the dance, but then the ground remained parched and the crops subsequently suffered under a scorching sun in the following weeks, would they still take comfort in the notion that the dance had brought the rain? Thank you for asking.

Dan,
Thanks for your thoughtful and encouraging comments. Glad you liked.

Mary

Mary, I'm no expert on native psychology, but it seems they put their faith in the gods. If the gods didn't bless them with crops,and or rain, I don't think they blamed the gods. It would be like a Christian blaming God for cancer. I think they just accepted the results without question. Most Christians don't stop praying just because their wishes are not immediately fulfilled. Praying, like the rain dance, is a ritual. Rituals confirm a belief. It's just what we do, regardless of the outcome...

Thanks for explaining the intention of your poem though, it does help us unknowing readers to see what you meant.


Les

Edited 2 time(s). Last edit at 06/18/2009 07:31AM by les712.

Les,
For me, creativity sometimes feels squelched or dormant. The periods of drought usually coincide with times when I must stay very focused on the day to day details of everyday life. My most prolific times seem to have been those when life was at a crossroads and, by worldly standards, was sort of messed up...after I quit my job and wasn't sure what to do next...when feeling depressed....after the deaths of loved ones, etc. I can only guess that those were the times when I was afforded the luxury of introspection and meditation, when, by worldly standards, it was ok to walk around in a dreamy, meditative state.

It would be interesting to study the lives of artists, writers, etc. as with what little I already know, it would seem that insanity, depression, or a shutting out of the world is a common thread among them. Although, certainly, there are artists who are able to juggle both their day jobs and their creativity simultaneously.

I don't blame God for the drought, but wonder if there is anything I can do to bring back the creative flow...besides pray, hope, or quit my day job.

Thanks,
Mary

Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 06/20/2009 09:58AM by UPMarty.

Mary:
You manage to express this in a way that is familiar and disturbing to me at the same time. I project myself onto your introspective. As I read what you are saying I am screaming at you, which is to say screaming at myself.

Stop trying to think your way out of things! The poems come when I am letting my feelings do the talking. Things the soul cannot express when the brain is getting in the way. In my opinion turning inward (not insanity or complete diconnection) is the common trait of artists. Maybe some have to lose their mind to stay there for a long time and be prolific. But I thinik it is possible to just give your mind a rest and let your soul drive the bus for a while. When and how that happens is different for us all.

So what if it's not "on" all the time. Give yourself credit for the great things you do. I'm just rambling here, but in my opinion your creativity is alive and well.

Steve

Thanks, Steve, for rattling my chain, but I'm not beating myself up on the issue. There are many things I give myself credit for doing, but writing poetry isn't one of them. It has nothing to do with self depreciation because the "process" is set apart from things I work to achieve and consider "accomplishments" (or failures).

Writing a book would be an accomplishment. I may need inspiration for the "idea" of what to write about, but I would have to put much thought, planning, and work into writing it. Writing poetry is more like love or spirituality to me. There is an element of mystery that isn't easily explained. The process itself is more like a feeling that either is or isn't. If it requires too much effort or plotting and planning on my own part, it feels fake. So my being "on" isn't part of that.

But you have got me thinking that the periods of drought may have more to do with me than I realized and less to do with the poetry itself than I realized. If someone is depressed and reclusive....locked up in their house...but lonely and wanting to be loved, it probably ain't going to happen. They may be advised by well meaning friends to get out more. The issue, however, isn't about being inside or outside the house, but more about being personally "closed". You can go outside the house and go through the motions of engaging in all sorts of activities, but if the only reason for doing so is to find a love interest, it probably still ain't going to happen (and would be fake).

The issue lies more in the reason for staying closed up inside the house in the first place. The issue is more about why engaging in those activities isn't something you would want to do for no other reason than to be an active participant in your own life and to enjoy the activities in their own right (and your own sake).
That happening will do far more to attract a love interest, but the beauty and mystery of it is that; finding a love interest will then become much less important, if not insignificant.

So although I'm not entirely sure where the snafu is with the poetry these days, I think I'll take your advice, just stop thinking too much about it, and enjoy the summer. It's not good to define ourselves by something we have or do, so I'll try to just let go of it.

Who's rambling now, Steve? Thanks much.

Mary

I worry of the things I do to my body, laughing like an orchestra of cannons. All that thought Marty, all that thought. Don't listen to Steevo. People can, and have, tamed themselves. I've briefly blended intellect and animal, or "soul" if you will, and I am haunted by it. To be more accurate, horrified.

Let's assume for the moment you are completely incorrect in your estimations of a god, let's further assume everyone else on the planet is also incorrect when asserting some deity rules, but that there is infact a singular reality apart from ourselves and our perceptions that exists as it is and always has been no matter of our views on it. From this stipulation, judge the state of our kind. We are all mad, screaming into the darkness.

Percival, you're nuts.

Here's how it goes.

First God created himself out of nothing.

Then he created the universe.

Then he hung around for a few billion years and said hey let's bring some people into existence so they can wonder who created me.

Then he created nuclear warfare so we can also wonderwhen the universe will end as well as when it began.

But I don't think he created writer's block. We did that ourselves.


Les

Funny joke. You know what's funnier?

[www.youtube.com] />
This. Is your fault.

I don't want you convincing yourself this is something other than it is. Children, their lives being robbed from them at youth, before they've the remotest chance to gain any foothold on this world. These delusions will become the center of their calculations, they will be unable to form logical perceptions of reality, they will be limited to small, pathetic existences lacking the few joys allowed us. Pawing at the complexities of life with nubs. Misery loves company Les. They will multiply, making more and more of themselves to ease the agony of their sad, dumb lives. And more and more will suffer. And create more work for me to waste my fucking time cleaning up.

Marty, I've been away a while.

This is a striking and beautiful poem. I love the wild feel of it. And your title is excellent.

I have just one suggestion for revision. Consider condensing lines 5, 6 and 7 into two lines, to be used as the first two lines of the second stanza. When you have otherwise done so well with the format, that singleton 5th line as you now have it seems out of place, even though it has good words.

Ian

Ian, good to see you as always. Thanks for the advice. Upon reread, I totally see where you're coming from. From something like an aesthetic point of view, you are right. If I was to attempt publishing, I would probably do as you suggest.

Upon reread, though, I also find that it was written exactly how it came to me. I think the hesitation with writer's block has something to do with an internal conflict between wanting to be both true to the inspiration and to the art FORM.

If our goal is to always stay inside the lines or if we consider the piece flawed if it doesn't, something eventually will be lost and we may as well go out and get a poetry by number kit. So as I struggle with the current block, I may very well write some things that aren't written very well... by some standard or another. But to get past it, I think I need to be ok with that...and still ok too, if someone else isn't. Thanks, though, for your close readings and the time you take with us here.

Mary

Mary, I'm OK with that.

I'm a compulsive polisher and repolisher of my own work, as I know from experience that my initial inspiration rarely gets it quite right, even though it gave me the impetus to start. It's not until later that I can see the faults, and get supplementary inspirations to put them right. So, I don't feel any inhibition about altering the first write (unless of course the poem itself protests shrilly at being subjected to surgery).

There's absolutely no reason why you should work the same way.

Ian

This is something every poet here should be able to say to every other poet here:


There's absolutely no reason why you should work the same way.

bravo, Ian

Peter

Marty,

I have been away for more than a month. You have amended your poem since I commented on it, but for some reason the thread doesn't record that you have made an edit. Is that another Emule feature that is no longer working?

I don't have a copy of how the poem used to be, but it looks good now.

Ian

Ian,
I too have been away for a while and have not edited the poem. There is some sort of glitch with the formatting at e-mule of late that has apparently improved some poems . Thanks though.

Mary

To retain line breaks, we have to put

< pre>
a line before the poem and
< /pre>
after the last line without the spaces.

The formatting is retroactively rearranged on all the poems on the forum.

Peter

Mary:

Excellent! Judging from this, your muse has definitely returned. Stop being so hard on yourself and welcome her with open arms.

Joe

Thanks, Joe. Good to hear from you.

Mary

bump for the feeling in this

Thanks for the bump, Peter. I went back to edit with the codes you gave and found those already appearing. When I removed them, it reformatted to the way I wrote it. Go figure. Thanks again.

Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 11/20/2009 11:34PM by UPMarty.