Hey, I really like this. It feels carefully-crafted, so I'll cup its fragile words gently in my mind and savour your skill.
"and I’m warbling love songs
to a confused meadowlark" - for some reason I love a good metaphor beginning with 'and', I think it's the implied casual voice...and this is a particularly nice one.
Like everyone below, I have only praise for this poem.
Cheers for sharing it with us.
Wonderful .. and you know, Tennyson was an admirer of poetry and poets, and, if he read this I don't doubt a minute that he'd shake his head, stroke his beard and leave you a great review. Your writing equals stars in the skydom .. always.
i'd say with my recent work people are likely to say:
what the hell does that mean.
perhaps that's a problem.
with yours, i'd say that it's sometimes got too much resolution.
we can assume that the poem was written about someone or a series of no-ones whose absence has always suggested someone, so in that sense the poem's last line is too much imo.
there is a poem here, i enjoy several passages.
You’re whispering secrets to stars.
I’m warbling love songs
(to confused meadowlarks).
Tennyson is too romantic.
Maybe I should keep to my tower--
busy fingers making seams
no-one can see.
Sometimes there are curses.
I still-walk
through the green valley
holding a valiant hand.
*I'm not saying that's it either. what i liked about the poem was that it could be broken up into immediate states and actions,
and then it broke away into idealism and that contrast contains the sadness.
there's a humdinger poem here.
for me, that last poem i write, and pretty much with all of them,
i sit there and switch words and phrasing around for hours, doing edit on edit on edit, and changing the formatting.
impossible love, who will take it. the writer of this poem seems to be questioning her owns souls direction. figuring out, asking herself who the "you"s are in her world.
I agree too that this is a "notch above" kind of a poem.
Hey, I really like this. It feels carefully-crafted, so I'll cup its fragile words gently in my mind and savour your skill.
"and I’m warbling love songs
to a confused meadowlark" - for some reason I love a good metaphor beginning with 'and', I think it's the implied casual voice...and this is a particularly nice one.
Like everyone below, I have only praise for this poem.
Cheers for sharing it with us.
to the Lost Boys
I am no Wendy;
but my voice brings you back to me.
And you sit around my feet,
anxious for a story
or a kiss.
Listening to my words
spinning adventures,
like so much g.. more..