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Post by rrw on Feb 3, 2012 0:14:14 GMT -5
I watch the day begin to die. I wonder why there aren’t more mourners on the street. Just me and a cautious, cool breeze drifting past my knees.
Wait... A crow, somewhere out of sight, laments the passing of the sun which rapidly descends towards its own demise.
Down the block a barking dog, a car is heard, it idles through the potholed alleyways; it also hopes the sun will stay a little longer, long enough, at least, to comfort all those grieving shadows gathering around the grave the end of day has dug.
I hesitate to make much more of all of this than just another tick of tock, a clicking of the lock that holds us steadfast in the sturdy gravity of a indomitable Earth. There’s no forgiving we who live for nothing more than living, for nothing more than breath in, breath out and a stubborn prayer, a solemn wish that night will never come. —rrw 3-29-11 (rewrite 2-2-12)
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Post by b4sunset on Feb 3, 2012 8:47:16 GMT -5
a somber plight that somehow reaches for inner light, robert!... no matter how you may seem to make your piece brood, out comes the flicker!... so panoramic in poetic view; so deep in digging the mystery of a day!.. stunning!..nenette
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Post by rrw on Feb 3, 2012 12:35:47 GMT -5
a somber plight that somehow reaches for inner light, robert!... no matter how you may seem to make your piece brood, out comes the flicker!... so panoramic in poetic view; so deep in digging the mystery of a day!.. stunning!..nenette Thanks, B4! I've been working on this for awhile... may do a little more fine tuning later....
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Post by rustybroadspear on Feb 4, 2012 14:17:39 GMT -5
within any 24 hour period, the 'one hour' of evening (whenever that may be) is when I generally feel the most apprehensive about all things in general .............. don't know why and never ask why ........ I've never been overly concerned .... but it was for this reason that your poem struck a raw nerve and yes I also enjoyed it ..........
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Post by rrw on Feb 5, 2012 0:42:01 GMT -5
I always found twilight to be rather disturbing. The disappears, traffic stops, the dogs begin to mourn in soft howls. life seems to stop... I find myself very lonely.
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Post by michaelgallatin on Feb 5, 2012 11:09:18 GMT -5
I really like your poems a lot! I like the style and the messages. This one is no exception but..., I don't fear the night. The night is a time of rest, regrouping, dreaming good dreams that at times surpass real life, being quiet, peaceful and relaxed. If we should fear anything, it's whether or not we wake to a new day. Unless, of course, we don't fear death either though most people do. But day and night are a cycle, they go together. And night can also be a time of revelry and abandon. For the love of God, send me to Mardi Gras or Carnivale any day my friend (oops, any night!). So, I liked this poem and I think there's an allusion here to approaching death but I'm fine with the night. Namaste, Mike
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Post by rrw on Feb 5, 2012 12:07:51 GMT -5
Oh, I dig the night also. It's when I get most of my writing done. But ever since I was a kid that moment when day is turning into night... has always made me a bit sad... don't know why... and even worse, being alone on a beach, looking at the ocean during twilight... oh, it makes me so sad. Again, don't know why... it just does.
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Post by johan on Feb 6, 2012 7:14:13 GMT -5
Well Rob, thought this one a great piece of work, very discriptive and liked the way you describe the evening arriving, also enjoy the way you bring life to a poem.
Johan
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Post by rrw on Feb 7, 2012 11:26:04 GMT -5
Yeah, Johan, I'm trying to work the poems more in a story telling format.
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Post by michaelgallatin on Feb 7, 2012 12:32:44 GMT -5
Oh, I dig the night also. It's when I get most of my writing done. But ever since I was a kid that moment when day is turning into night... has always made me a bit sad... don't know why... and even worse, being alone on a beach, looking at the ocean during twilight... oh, it makes me so sad. Again, don't know why... it just does. I can fully understand that and saw it before too in your poem. Didn't mean to overstate things the other way either. There is some sadness to the end of day. I think perhaps because it symbolizes the end of light, warmth and all that comes along with that. And there are also "things that go bump in the night". So yes, it can also be lonely, scary, even deadly. But then my friend, sadly so can the day! Be Happy, Mike
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Post by purplespirit on Feb 9, 2012 16:34:47 GMT -5
RRW I know that I have commented on this earlier and was surprised to not find it here - probably I did so while not being logged in so it was not received. Glad I came back for another read, as this poem has in some way really moved me and I think it is so very perfect that it is beyond my imagination it could get some more fine tuning ... Thank you. Ulla xx
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Post by rrw on Feb 10, 2012 11:07:11 GMT -5
RRW I know that I have commented on this earlier and was surprised to not find it here - probably I did so while not being logged in so it was not received. Glad I came back for another read, as this poem has in some way really moved me and I think it is so very perfect that it is beyond my imagination it could get some more fine tuning ... Thank you. Ulla xx I love to be read more than once! Thanks, PS. I think I'm trying to find my way towards creating an experience over just talking about something.
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Post by jbstillwater on Feb 10, 2012 15:44:16 GMT -5
. . . it also hopes the sun will stay a little longer, long enough, at least, to comfort all those grieving shadows gathering around the grave the end of day has dug. Love those lines Robert, great poem. I always enjoy how you manage to pull from your day. I don't think anyone would ever accuse you of not "stopping to smell the roses" Huggs-Jan Read more: echoes64.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=poetry&action=display&thread=15168#ixzz1m0udzQOF
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Post by rrw on Feb 10, 2012 22:40:42 GMT -5
. . . it also hopes the sun will stay a little longer, long enough, at least, to comfort all those grieving shadows gathering around the grave the end of day has dug. Love those lines Robert, great poem. I always enjoy how you manage to pull from your day. I don't think anyone would ever accuse you of not "stopping to smell the roses" Huggs-Jan Thanks, JB. Yeah, I look at this life of mine and try to find something poetic about it... mixing a bit of real world with the world of the imagination... and sometimes the two are so close that it's hard to tell which is which....
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