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The Building Begins

A cleft of dried yellow grass
in a blackbird’s beak;

the dew-iced frost sun greening
in the unwintering white sky;

a branch become suspending
foundation; the blackbird’s flight

an impulse to weave and hope.

Jimmy O'Connell wrote:The Building Begins

A cleft of dried yellow grass
in a blackbird’s beak;

the dew-iced frost sun greening
in the unwintering white sky;

a branch become suspending
foundation; the blackbird’s flight

an impulse to weave and hope.

i know what it's like to be ignored, jimmy. are there people in here who just observe and don't communicate, or is this place actually completely uninhabitated? i have no idea, but i do know you can find more life in a morgue than you can in this social and intellectual desert. not much motivation for a poet to share his/her work here, if i may be so bold. futile trying to get some interaction, you'd have more success trying to squeeze blood out of a moon-rock. well, i just stopped by to say "good luck".

ps: love the don quixote avatar - picasso is my favourite artist after warhol

Sadly, accurate comments on the forum, but;
Did you read the poem, Geoffrey?
...or are you merely chasing windmills?

"...an impulse to weave and hope."
That is a great (peotic) way to describe Spring, Jimmy!
I love it.

MatbbgJ

Thanks for comments.
I am a little guilty myself for not making comments, but I'm happy to see so many read my poems...
Keep the numbers piling!!!

mat james wrote:Sadly, accurate comments on the forum, but;
Did you read the poem, Geoffrey?
...or are you merely chasing windmills?

yes, dear mat, i did read it, several times. my purpose for coming here, however, was not to give a critique, but rather comment on the lack of them. you are right, though, it was a good poem, and maybe impolite of me not to say it had been read and enjoyed. by the way, i appreciate very much your reference to don quixote