September 8, 2010

  • contextuality

     

    from lacy unlit nighttime play
    recalled from passive passions spoke
    unto fair lovelorn far away
    for all I knew it was a joke
    but no, my heart was stirring brisk
    like whipping cream to fluff and air
    enveloped in the safest risk
    I dared not harm a single hair
    upon the head I fancied fond
    yet still delved softly into flesh
    and did dare venture well beyond
    until entangled in her mesh
    and there I rested safe and warm
    to mollify her false alarm

     

     

Comments (8)

  • I wanted to comment, but I now find my mind entirely blank of things to say. 

    False alarms are many, I think, though. 

  • False alarms, everyday.

  • Sometiimes you write stuff that makes me wonder who in hell would be so special.. and then I think, oh.
    This is sadly lovely, mister.

  • The meter in this is fantastic – I am really impressed. I’ve listened to a lot of William Wordsworth read aloud – and this poem reminds me of those readings….I hear the voice of the reader, and the rhythms of the syllables when I read this to myself. 

    I love the alliteration in : recalled from passive passions spokeAnd the simile: like whipping cream to fluff and air
    The poem also ends quite amazingly – there’s a lot of layers to this piece. I’m sorry I never commented much before – your work is truly inspirational. 

  • “I dared not harm a single hair
    upon the head I fancied fond”

    that is quite a good self-control

  • i like the pictures your words paint in my mind.  thank you

  • Dear Ben,

    This is like one long sentence in rhyme. Favorite lines:

    “I dared not harm a single hair
    upon the head I fancied fond
    yet still delved softly into flesh
    and did dare venture well beyond”

    I’ve written poetry most of my life, and I still cannot form rhymes as seemingly simple but so complex in their execution without staring at the computer screen for hours, and then mine still don’t measure up to yours. (But of course poets should really never compare now should they?)

    Michael F.Nyiri, poet, philosopher, fool

Post a Comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *