september elegy
- tom.d.stiller
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september elegy
september elegy
four years crumbled.
still speechless i'm struck
paralyzed when the mind
searches the fiery debris
of this nation's orchid pride
pyrolized to silent
towers. i kept the view
grounded to zero. crushed
hope is spent but i salute
the town, twin to the world.
i greet the dead and epitaph
heroes who survived the strike
of mad atrocity that pierced
and sliced an apple heart.
although i know my voice
must never falter, the words
hide themselves and weep where
twin holes still scrape the sky
four years crumbled.
still speechless i'm struck
paralyzed when the mind
searches the fiery debris
of this nation's orchid pride
pyrolized to silent
towers. i kept the view
grounded to zero. crushed
hope is spent but i salute
the town, twin to the world.
i greet the dead and epitaph
heroes who survived the strike
of mad atrocity that pierced
and sliced an apple heart.
although i know my voice
must never falter, the words
hide themselves and weep where
twin holes still scrape the sky
- linda_lakeside
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- Location: By the sea, by the sea, by the beautiful sea..
Hi, tom,
I'm very glad, that with the New Orleans devastation, you took the time to remember another tragedy that should never, ever be forgotten. The tragedies are piling up it seems. The longer we live, the more we endure.
I like your poem very much, and September will always be a time for reflection on this particular topic for many of us.
Regards,
Linda.
I'm very glad, that with the New Orleans devastation, you took the time to remember another tragedy that should never, ever be forgotten. The tragedies are piling up it seems. The longer we live, the more we endure.
I like your poem very much, and September will always be a time for reflection on this particular topic for many of us.
Regards,
Linda.
Dear Tom ~
Thank you, again, for your gentle, heartfelt words, commemorating the tragic and senseless loss of so many lives in New York City.
The lines and verses in your poem have an interesting pattern of reversed wordings. I guess, in a way, a repetition of how reflections can work.
Amongst many partial uses of words and terms, " . . . where / twin holes still scrape the sky" ~ I love the way you've done this, the truth in the image, and how "scrape" has its own duality.
I could say much more about your poem, but I'll just let it go with this, and my expressed appreciation.
~ Lizzy
Thank you, again, for your gentle, heartfelt words, commemorating the tragic and senseless loss of so many lives in New York City.
The lines and verses in your poem have an interesting pattern of reversed wordings. I guess, in a way, a repetition of how reflections can work.
Amongst many partial uses of words and terms, " . . . where / twin holes still scrape the sky" ~ I love the way you've done this, the truth in the image, and how "scrape" has its own duality.
I could say much more about your poem, but I'll just let it go with this, and my expressed appreciation.
~ Lizzy
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- tom.d.stiller
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Thank you all for your kind attention.
9/11 muted me for more than a month. Words appeared, true enough, but they all fell short. Then on a weary October morning I drafted an elegy that, though falling short again, brought me back to words.
The lines posted here draw heavily on the images created then. I had to do a lot of cleaning, though, because clichés are the debris of poets' emotions...
Cheers, and thanks again
tom
9/11 muted me for more than a month. Words appeared, true enough, but they all fell short. Then on a weary October morning I drafted an elegy that, though falling short again, brought me back to words.
The lines posted here draw heavily on the images created then. I had to do a lot of cleaning, though, because clichés are the debris of poets' emotions...
Cheers, and thanks again
tom
- Byron
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I have to say here that each time there is a reference to 9/11, I feel the moment more than normally.
My mother died on 9/17. Just a few short terrible days after that attack.
She was unable to take in the full import of the attack and her death was as sudden. But in her bed.
Tom, it works and Andrew says all that can be said to recognise this as poetry.
Thanks.
My mother died on 9/17. Just a few short terrible days after that attack.
She was unable to take in the full import of the attack and her death was as sudden. But in her bed.
Tom, it works and Andrew says all that can be said to recognise this as poetry.
Thanks.
"Bipolar is a roller-coaster ride without a seat belt. One day you're flying with the fireworks; for the next month you're being scraped off the trolley" I said that.
..........................the words
hide themselves and weep where
twin holes still scrape the sky
The abstract imagery is perfect.
If I may take the liberty of substituting something for myself (I am not suggesting you do it....no doubt you had your own reasons for the above lines).
The cries
hide themselves and weep where
twin holes still scrape the sky.
Byron wrote:
TOM~
I can't believe I never said boo about this earlier.
It is a force to be reckoned with. A pile of strong verbs and nouns that speak with just the right amount of force and under-current of emotion. All the while using original images that tie into the place itself. You made something look effortless that was and is anything but.
regards,
Laurie
Sorry about your mum. The shift in sorrow that takes place between a global tragedy and a personal one can leave a person dizzy.I feel the moment more than normally.
My mother died on 9/17.
TOM~
I can't believe I never said boo about this earlier.
It is a force to be reckoned with. A pile of strong verbs and nouns that speak with just the right amount of force and under-current of emotion. All the while using original images that tie into the place itself. You made something look effortless that was and is anything but.
regards,
Laurie
- tom.d.stiller
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Thank you, Byron, Kush, Laurie, for the attention given to my lines.
Byron, I'm sorry to hear about your mother's premature death (all deaths are premature, I know, but some make us realize this sad truth more than others).
Kush, the reasons I preferred 'words' over 'cries' (which I had considered as well) are easily explained: First thing I wanted an abundance of 'w' sounds in the final, and then one topic of the poem was / is the inadequacy of words before an event like this.
I wasn't sure about the use of 'pyrolized', but didn't see another option that went so well with "paralyzed"...
Thanks again for your kind words.
tom
Byron, I'm sorry to hear about your mother's premature death (all deaths are premature, I know, but some make us realize this sad truth more than others).
Kush, the reasons I preferred 'words' over 'cries' (which I had considered as well) are easily explained: First thing I wanted an abundance of 'w' sounds in the final, and then one topic of the poem was / is the inadequacy of words before an event like this.
I wasn't sure about the use of 'pyrolized', but didn't see another option that went so well with "paralyzed"...
Thanks again for your kind words.
tom
Dear Byron ~
I'm sorry, also, regarding the, additionally awful timing of your mother's death, in addition to her death, period. We've talked about it privately in PMs, since that time, but I would feel remiss if not saying something here.
Tom ~ You do work very hard on your poems. It always shows.
~ Lizzy
I'm sorry, also, regarding the, additionally awful timing of your mother's death, in addition to her death, period. We've talked about it privately in PMs, since that time, but I would feel remiss if not saying something here.
Tom ~ You do work very hard on your poems. It always shows.
~ Lizzy
- tom.d.stiller
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