deepundergroundpoetry.com
Magically Delicious!
The moon gave me some lucky charm light
Through Saint Patrick's earliest clouds
Making the night a fine Celtic sight
Of zenith vapors in gossamer crowds
Muting the beams on plumtrees in bloom,
Trying their best to mimic the sky,
Like an upbeat white popcorn broom
Sweeping some fresh from the dew on high
And packing it into late summer fruit
Along with the taste of moonbeam gold
Which, of course, is a vernal cahoot
Beginning when winter starts to get old
When the madness march of the shamrock green
Proves chlorophyll...the best libertine!
Through Saint Patrick's earliest clouds
Making the night a fine Celtic sight
Of zenith vapors in gossamer crowds
Muting the beams on plumtrees in bloom,
Trying their best to mimic the sky,
Like an upbeat white popcorn broom
Sweeping some fresh from the dew on high
And packing it into late summer fruit
Along with the taste of moonbeam gold
Which, of course, is a vernal cahoot
Beginning when winter starts to get old
When the madness march of the shamrock green
Proves chlorophyll...the best libertine!
Published 16th May 2022
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 3
reading list entries 1
comments 4
reads 476
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
Anonymous
17th May 2022 11:58am
<< post removed >>
17th May 2022 1:41pm
So magical! How do you manage to find the fine line between smartness' potency and weight that comes per se, and then , just at the appropriate time, you know how to stop it and just keep it neat and laconic.
A short-spoken variete of a Shakespearean level of personal lexicon.
Also, this is such a successful homage to St Patrick, it has the same spellbinding power of Harry Potter, but in your own way.
It makes me feel nostalgic and it inspires me with all various hues of the nature, with the sadness of each season changing, growing into the constant change, where cycles resemble repeatability but actually it is like a river that never has the same water flowing again.... ever again...
So. The end just nailed it, who would ever think to compare chlorophyll to libertine! And also, it is not just that, the way you built the sentence is epic. Yes, it is reasonable to remember that life-giving powers are the most charming out there. And not only. I believe there is some hidden mystery behind this sentence that can be deciphered in various ways. You know, when people write essays to interpret the intents of the author, this has the potential to bring about like, a whole library of essays. I just wonder what else will I feel or what else will the poem provoke in me when I read it again.
You know, one way that a poem can show good quality is that, every time you read it, you can discover a new meaning.
Once again, I am mesmerised how you combine visuals with a narrative.
A short-spoken variete of a Shakespearean level of personal lexicon.
Also, this is such a successful homage to St Patrick, it has the same spellbinding power of Harry Potter, but in your own way.
It makes me feel nostalgic and it inspires me with all various hues of the nature, with the sadness of each season changing, growing into the constant change, where cycles resemble repeatability but actually it is like a river that never has the same water flowing again.... ever again...
So. The end just nailed it, who would ever think to compare chlorophyll to libertine! And also, it is not just that, the way you built the sentence is epic. Yes, it is reasonable to remember that life-giving powers are the most charming out there. And not only. I believe there is some hidden mystery behind this sentence that can be deciphered in various ways. You know, when people write essays to interpret the intents of the author, this has the potential to bring about like, a whole library of essays. I just wonder what else will I feel or what else will the poem provoke in me when I read it again.
You know, one way that a poem can show good quality is that, every time you read it, you can discover a new meaning.
Once again, I am mesmerised how you combine visuals with a narrative.
28th Jul 2022 4:50pm
Whenever I am composing a poem, I try to let my thoughts wander in whatever direction they want and however far they wish. We can call it the muse but I suspect almost anybody can cultivate the mindset. I mean, who writes poems about a breakfast cereal? I do! I think poetry is the perfect home for blending all established concepts into new creations we call poems. I call it "concepts in conflation" and it is a kind of signature indicator of where the poet comes from, making all poetry autobiographical, to a degree.
I've read a lot of Shakespeare and I live in an age where we have become aware of the existence of chlorophyll, and so I suppose linking those ideas somehow became inevitable, with libertinism piling on because of course plant chemistry would never concern itself with any social convention in sexual matters.
And it's funny you should mention essays because I can make a strong case for sonnets as good practice for essay writing, in that they both consist of concise conceptual arrangement.
I've read a lot of Shakespeare and I live in an age where we have become aware of the existence of chlorophyll, and so I suppose linking those ideas somehow became inevitable, with libertinism piling on because of course plant chemistry would never concern itself with any social convention in sexual matters.
And it's funny you should mention essays because I can make a strong case for sonnets as good practice for essay writing, in that they both consist of concise conceptual arrangement.
