deepundergroundpoetry.com
To hold cold hands
A pen laid flat, cryptic crossword remains unsolved
thunder clouds rub shoulders, in the static air
Irritate, the greater half is now dissolved
those loved, broken, separation for the unprepared
For when I stared with empty eye
and in my mind, I held his chilling hands
ego washed in bleach, silence in reply
no cheers caroused from our grandstand
Slow handclaps, welcome, a lost conquest
and tarnished desolation creeps
temptation to wail and beat ones chest
loves rat the first to leave a sinking ship?
To plot a course and venture forth
he was the wind upon my face
white stallion rode on the foreshore
vibration's and the un-disgraced
Pin drop silence, loneliness, the teeth that bite
the broom that sweeps up all regrets
the trailer playing what is afterlife
blond streaks that showed, when his hair was wet
Ice blocks of summer how they froze the heart
black ribbon's bows now tied across
as we were Gwynevere and Lancelot
relive the moments so besot
As the dirt was cast, upon the coffins top in mourning
in wistful recall, a frank exchange and cutting wit
angels share the plans that we were forming
The missing, a miner in a cold black pit
thunder clouds rub shoulders, in the static air
Irritate, the greater half is now dissolved
those loved, broken, separation for the unprepared
For when I stared with empty eye
and in my mind, I held his chilling hands
ego washed in bleach, silence in reply
no cheers caroused from our grandstand
Slow handclaps, welcome, a lost conquest
and tarnished desolation creeps
temptation to wail and beat ones chest
loves rat the first to leave a sinking ship?
To plot a course and venture forth
he was the wind upon my face
white stallion rode on the foreshore
vibration's and the un-disgraced
Pin drop silence, loneliness, the teeth that bite
the broom that sweeps up all regrets
the trailer playing what is afterlife
blond streaks that showed, when his hair was wet
Ice blocks of summer how they froze the heart
black ribbon's bows now tied across
as we were Gwynevere and Lancelot
relive the moments so besot
As the dirt was cast, upon the coffins top in mourning
in wistful recall, a frank exchange and cutting wit
angels share the plans that we were forming
The missing, a miner in a cold black pit
Published 21st Jul 2021
Author's Note
tribute to Auden's, Funeral Blues - https://web.cs.dal.ca/~johnston/poetry/stopclocks.html
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 3
reading list entries 0
comments 7
reads 564
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
Anonymous
21st Jul 2021 10:02pm
I enjoyed this.
Honest critique: the 1st & 2nd stanza give me a kind of deis-embodied sense of location, which I like. NIce image of a thunder clouds rubbing shoulders.
What knocks me off my pins: I can't tell when the lines are enjambed, and when they're to be read as discrete, independent units. It doesn't come across as consistently one way or the other, and when I get to lines like
Slow handclaps, welcome, a lost conquest
and tarnished desolation creeps
temptation to wail and beat ones chest
loves rat the first to leave a sinking ship?
The 1st 2 lines, I'm like, "OK, the grandstand, a kind of laconic vibe...OK"--I don't quite understand, but I get it. Then, in line 3, "I'm like, 'huh'? Is "temptation" the beginning of a new thought? Is 'temptation' a direct object to the verb creeps? Is this supposed to be another phrase of observation / perception / stream of thought? And then what is "loves" in line 4? Verb? Plural noun? Personification? I don't know...
There's a lot to like here, but I struggle with the syntactical / grammatical / line-break tendencies. They ultimately keep me from sharing and enjoying it more.
Better, more followable stanzas were #s 4, 5, first half of 6, & 7--these were more consistent for me, and much to admire.
Enjoyed!
And Wystan Hugh, as always, much appreciated!
Honest critique: the 1st & 2nd stanza give me a kind of deis-embodied sense of location, which I like. NIce image of a thunder clouds rubbing shoulders.
What knocks me off my pins: I can't tell when the lines are enjambed, and when they're to be read as discrete, independent units. It doesn't come across as consistently one way or the other, and when I get to lines like
Slow handclaps, welcome, a lost conquest
and tarnished desolation creeps
temptation to wail and beat ones chest
loves rat the first to leave a sinking ship?
The 1st 2 lines, I'm like, "OK, the grandstand, a kind of laconic vibe...OK"--I don't quite understand, but I get it. Then, in line 3, "I'm like, 'huh'? Is "temptation" the beginning of a new thought? Is 'temptation' a direct object to the verb creeps? Is this supposed to be another phrase of observation / perception / stream of thought? And then what is "loves" in line 4? Verb? Plural noun? Personification? I don't know...
There's a lot to like here, but I struggle with the syntactical / grammatical / line-break tendencies. They ultimately keep me from sharing and enjoying it more.
Better, more followable stanzas were #s 4, 5, first half of 6, & 7--these were more consistent for me, and much to admire.
Enjoyed!
And Wystan Hugh, as always, much appreciated!
22nd Jul 2021 9:06am
Thank you Mark for your critique I have to agree with you on certain points. This was written as a tribute to WH Auden In DU competition CC (classic corner ) poets are challenged to write a poem in his style and link it to an original.
I have only been writing for about three years and am now approaching 80. Having worked as an engineer all my life and had NO interest in literature of any description. I read your profile notes and was much impressed by your reading list of poets, and your singularity to improve and seek publication
I may edit the piece I will MSG you If that's ok for some feedback, So grateful for your time and indulgence
Best Regards SLIP
I have only been writing for about three years and am now approaching 80. Having worked as an engineer all my life and had NO interest in literature of any description. I read your profile notes and was much impressed by your reading list of poets, and your singularity to improve and seek publication
I may edit the piece I will MSG you If that's ok for some feedback, So grateful for your time and indulgence
Best Regards SLIP
Anonymous
23rd Jul 2021 3:53am
Feel free to message me--
I love the idea of coming to language from a decidedly different background.
A mathematician once told me he'd been studying math so long (PhD), it had all turned to letters (philosophy, theory, etc.) ; I replied I'd been writing poems so long, it had all turned to numbers.
Great to know you!
I love the idea of coming to language from a decidedly different background.
A mathematician once told me he'd been studying math so long (PhD), it had all turned to letters (philosophy, theory, etc.) ; I replied I'd been writing poems so long, it had all turned to numbers.
Great to know you!
23rd Jul 2021 8:51am
Pi =3.1459............. a beginning without an end. may the ink never dry upon your pen
Anonymous
22nd Jul 2021 00:34am
Riveting, Slip!
Just as compelling as the inspiration poem, which you would swear was written about a close friend, mentor, or family member. But according to Wikipedia, "Funeral Blues" was "written as a satiric poem of mourning for a political leader." Can you believe that?!
Thanks for your continued participation in our Classic Corner Comps. Good luck in the judging!
Just as compelling as the inspiration poem, which you would swear was written about a close friend, mentor, or family member. But according to Wikipedia, "Funeral Blues" was "written as a satiric poem of mourning for a political leader." Can you believe that?!
Thanks for your continued participation in our Classic Corner Comps. Good luck in the judging!
22nd Jul 2021 6:02am
22nd Jul 2021 4:39pm
