Monday, October 17, 2016

Robert Verdon, #331, poetry

poetry is dreaming

the thin arm in the russet sleeve

that once reached up from labour for a wild rose

rediscovered in the radiance of a train’s

rain-dance through a forgotten valley

or your child-self on a red swing

by an upended wheelbarrow one yet-to-come spring …

how should I love and I so young

poetry is power

the sheer flag flying half-mast

for the unsung

the dreaming prayer

for here and everywhere

the passing-bell or tocsin

the bell that forms

when rung


  1. Excellent. Clear as a bell. The imagery is striking. The ending is very fine.

    (I reckon the ellipsis at the end of "spring" is unnecessary, since you have flagged all that with your "yet-to-come" and followed it with the next line italicised, all of which indicates to the reasonable reader that they are at the top of the swing...and here be a ruminative pause. :))

    1. I agree with you about the ellipsis, and I'm pleased the poem came across well anyway!

  2. I love this and Rob S I think I might approach that same line different slight wording with one spring yet to come... that simplifies it. But it does remove that sweet slump.

    1. Yes, Kerri. I agree about that line "[...] one spring yet to come" - the half-rhyme (and the rest!) would fuse nicely with the word "young" at the end of the next line. No diminution of the power there, I think.

    2. Well, that's something I hadn't thought of — but then I only wrote it this morning!

  3. this is lovely - don't read my poem please :) (it's an unhinged toilet door I fixed today)

    1. 'Omphale: of poetry ii' is one I can relate to!

  4. Ha. Kerri and Efi, I love your poetry. This fine poem of Robbie's...let's hear from the maker.

  5. I sense our anthology may need to have a definitions and manifestos section (or perhaps separate sections?)


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