What’s Left?

Giving up dream before the dawn
Before I kindle my first attempt at sight,
I’d give you what the evening left unheard --
The glowing words I left in deepest sleep.
Yet every word’s a contradiction now,
A secret told to only one who waits--
But a willow is a morning’s tax,
Remands the dew to wishful after-sleep.
To clean the wakefulness of promise,
Remainder what I’d lost a day ago
And find what I had given up --
Awake or asleep I am deceived:
I go where I may stay
And take myself from promise’s decay.

Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 01/22/2010 12:57AM by petersz.

A good read Peter, I like these lines:

But a willow is a morning’s tax,
Remands the dew to wishful after-sleep.


Les

Thanks, les.

Kindle.....I like that word. It has a much more positive connotation than "rekindle", which is the only way that I always think to use it. How about that new contraption for reading virtual books named, the Kindle?

Anyway, Peter, I admittedly can't connect with your three or so recently posted poems. I can again, however, relate to the last line with your "promise's decay". I think, unfortunately, I tend relate all too well to negativity.

I too liked the lines Les pointed out, but when I try to decipher their meaning,it gets complicated as if they double back on themselves....something like an oxymoron.

But as always, I enjoy reading what you write, even when I can't fully engage it.

Mary

I don't always write out of the realm of understanding...meaning, I don't always understand or comprehend my poems myself, since they derive from where I come from, rather than from my knowledge. Hence the last three poems 'come from' Dickinson, Shakespeare and Basho in mimetic repetition of their voices, with the subject matter filled in through my imagination of my life.

I always appreciate when you or someone else here responds to a poem, since I cannot myself always respond to what someone else puts up. The original title of this piece was: 'What's Up, Bll,' but I wanted to set it loose from its source and let it talk to my sense of loss...daily, uncaused loss for which we may not make an 'account.'

Thanks for visiting, Mary.

Peter

I’d give you what the evening left unheard --
The glowing words I left in deepest sleep.


these lines....ahhhh.wonderful.

Thanks for visiting, Sherry. I am still learning from this poem.

Peter

just read again and

Giving up dream before the dawn
Before I kindle my first attempt at sight,
I’d give you what the evening left unheard --
The glowing words I left in deepest sleep.

wonderful, Peter.