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(
[sid] => 184807
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => I The Fool Treasured So
[time] => 2018-01-20 04:00:27
[hometext] => Frost, here, alludes to Robert Frost and two poems, The Road Not Taken and Swinger of Birches. google if not know
[bodytext] => Climbing out the center of my coffin, switching kitchen lights off, locking the back door;
off to breathe the air of trees in a place by me not seen before.
In confusion of myself, groping mind-blind to a sunbeam,
urging names all past, “Oh, please remain. Don’t leave me, don’t LEAVE me! Don’t lea-”,
trees barked laughter then cruel brook babbling joined; thorns thirsted blood the more they tore from me.
Frost swooped icy birch, near to springing back to heaven; my aria; “Birch, take me, take ME!, take-”
Away! When sprung to earth Frost nudged, “Two paths, Invierno, trod well, the other less”,
“Trod however slight”, said I, “they both suffer stain of cobbled feet”. “Aha, hmm.. yes, I see”.
A nod, a frown, he bounded off to find more trees to climb, to swing down, to feel released.
But chains weighed me so I could not climb, links thicker for each name forgot;
lovers, friends and enemies, I touch their face, see the place, then fog does fog till no trace remains.
Memories know I a day will come, when all those rusty things I the fool treasured so
will be as nothing; on the swap, all of it for just some simple names; “Take it all, take it ALL! Take-”
My yell cracked ice to swing back to my ears, frozen pebbles tearful squat my cheeks,
legs scraped and torn decide to cease to move my feet, parked at edge of salmon dancing glacial angst;
a slip of day, no dawn, no dusk, just marriage of my soul to me;
at last smile found my lips to turn whilst wind sought to freeze my teeth, my skin to burn; I let it have its way;
when I quit the fight, names popped like sparklers, lit my eyes in fond recall,
footless now I asked a log, "Do you mind propping up a happy man?" I explained I would not forget his name,
“And Log, it’s right and true that wolves should tear, would rip energy with every bite of me;
and Log, you see that only at the last, do see I created all my pain, allowed sorrow theft of all my joy?"
But joy and joy reigns glorious this final day.
"Hark! Frozen mountains, names, all, I bid thee adieu!"
"I like this smile, I like this smile…this truth".
[comments] => 5
[counter] => 153
[topic] => 74
[informant] => invierno
[notes] =>
[ihome] => 0
[alanguage] => english
[acomm] => 0
[haspoll] => 0
[pollID] => 0
[score] => 0
[ratings] => 0
[editpoem] => 1
[associated] =>
[topicname] => surreal
)
I The Fool Treasured So
Contributed by
invierno
on
Saturday, 20th January 2018 @ 04:00:27 AM in AEST
Topic:
surreal
|
Climbing out the center of my coffin, switching kitchen lights off, locking the back door;
off to breathe the air of trees in a place by me not seen before.
In confusion of myself, groping mind-blind to a sunbeam,
urging names all past, “Oh, please remain. Don’t leave me, don’t LEAVE me! Don’t lea-”,
trees barked laughter then cruel brook babbling joined; thorns thirsted blood the more they tore from me.
Frost swooped icy birch, near to springing back to heaven; my aria; “Birch, take me, take ME!, take-”
Away! When sprung to earth Frost nudged, “Two paths, Invierno, trod well, the other less”,
“Trod however slight”, said I, “they both suffer stain of cobbled feet”. “Aha, hmm.. yes, I see”.
A nod, a frown, he bounded off to find more trees to climb, to swing down, to feel released.
But chains weighed me so I could not climb, links thicker for each name forgot;
lovers, friends and enemies, I touch their face, see the place, then fog does fog till no trace remains.
Memories know I a day will come, when all those rusty things I the fool treasured so
will be as nothing; on the swap, all of it for just some simple names; “Take it all, take it ALL! Take-”
My yell cracked ice to swing back to my ears, frozen pebbles tearful squat my cheeks,
legs scraped and torn decide to cease to move my feet, parked at edge of salmon dancing glacial angst;
a slip of day, no dawn, no dusk, just marriage of my soul to me;
at last smile found my lips to turn whilst wind sought to freeze my teeth, my skin to burn; I let it have its way;
when I quit the fight, names popped like sparklers, lit my eyes in fond recall,
footless now I asked a log, "Do you mind propping up a happy man?" I explained I would not forget his name,
“And Log, it’s right and true that wolves should tear, would rip energy with every bite of me;
and Log, you see that only at the last, do see I created all my pain, allowed sorrow theft of all my joy?"
But joy and joy reigns glorious this final day.
"Hark! Frozen mountains, names, all, I bid thee adieu!"
"I like this smile, I like this smile…this truth".
Copyright ©
invierno
... [
2018-01-20 04:00:27]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: I The Fool Treasured So
(User Rating: 1 )
by JamesStockdale on
Saturday, 20th January 2018 @ 10:58:48 AM AEST
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a Message)
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| I/'/m not a study of poetry but Robert Frost is a much required read as far as his life was concerned. This poem was very Frost like and came off Victorian to me. ( Which is grand) Very well written my friend! |
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Re: I The Fool Treasured So
(User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on
Saturday, 20th January 2018 @ 09:17:50 PM AEST
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this is interesting. I think you know Frost and mention here something often missed.
A couple of sides, this was what was youth, and this,
remembering of the ice storm as fact displays, is only half way.
Without doubt the boy is virtuous, same as any girl.
This might mean not knowing as if there were
this unkempt design in what it means to be human as if each and every episode bestowed in nature here on Earth captured itself but never did, and yet it held
meaning.
We were all the while wild and innocent, the characteristic senses sometimes eclipse the ice storms
affects.
I like this very much Invierno.
What did you do, and why?
Peace!
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Re: I The Fool Treasured So
(User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on
Saturday, 20th January 2018 @ 09:45:14 PM AEST
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a Message)
|
torn upon every shred of light, poetry is not about
me nor do I wish it were.
The fool you treasured so, when you say I,
is a story, maybe in someway a golden story,
filled with some tribute, broken by broken
promise. Well was it broken promise or something
clearly misinterpreted parsed with
acceptance...
Acceptance - Frost
When the spent sun throws up its rays on cloud
And goes down burning into the gulf below,
No voice in nature is heard to cry aloud
At what has happened.
Birds, at least must know
It is the change to darkness in the sky.
Murmuring something quite in her breast,
One bird begins to close a faded eye:
Or overtaken too far from the his nest,
Hurrying low above the grove, some waif
Swoops just in time to his remembered
tree,
At most he thinks or twitters softly,
"Safe!
Now let the night be dark for all of me.
Let the night be too dark for me to see
Into the future. Let what will be, be"
Acceptance, by Robert Frost
circa 1928
Peace! |
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Re: I The Fool Treasured So
(User Rating: 1 )
by softerware on
Wednesday, 24th January 2018 @ 08:56:32 PM AEST
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We come to be the sum of our choices. No matter our path, one day we will, as you describe, stand alone and apart from those possessions that used to define us, and that great weight of chains will lift. We will no longer have to be who are not. Nature doesn/'/t try to change; only man. And we are, as you sum, fuel for others sustenance who return to our earthly beginnings as part of a sacred cycle.
An inspiring story that promises we will be released from all the minutia we now carry when we come to face ourselves unadorned.
softerware
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Re: I The Fool Treasured So
(User Rating: 1 )
by ming on
Monday, 5th February 2018 @ 09:15:08 PM AEST
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a Message)
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This is AWESOME! And (not you) but I don/'/t understand people who write poetry but don/'/t read published poets. Libraries people! Sorry for my mini rant..
ming |
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