Tears of a Frozen Paradise

Watch them, fear them, never touch them;
The screaming crystals reaching backwards
The timeless rivers flow anointed.
Confused, misguided, helpless believers;
Chasing never ending gospels.
And while time yields not a strict obedience
Till that crimson flower blossoms
And the horizon paints a living fire.

 

Author's Note

Icicles, and how they are demons.

Reviews

[TamiViolet]

You cradle the reader in passion, and I'm particularly drawn to the multiple connotations... I say, it's quite amazing that such power can merge from so few words...

'Till that crimson flower blooms
And the horizon paints a living fire'

I see so much more than icicles, whether or not deliberate, your tapestry is selective and a brilliant means of conveying fire and ice in its most symbolic form...

[Call Me Blu]

This poem delivers a very strong emotion. Almost like the words are trying to say everything before falling off the page. And at the end it is like someo
ne caught them. I read this a few times to look for any mistakes but you have revised it enough that it now flows but doesn't turn molten.

[A.A.]

If I may make one or two suggestions towards a fine poem..

When the sense of the piece is contained within the comparisons of the images themselves, rather than an 'argument', I would suppose that you could dispense with one of two of the logically-minded articles; the line's that strike me most are;
"The timeless river flows anointed",
and
"And the horizon paints a living fire".
Speaking these aloud, the 'the' in both instances seems to my ear as though they could be omitted, to distill the words further and bring them closer to the images, I hear;
"Watch them, fear them, never touch them;
The screaming crystals reaching backwards
Timeless river flows anointed."
Thinking in terms of 3 seperate propositions, in a manner similar to some variations of English Haiku (disregarding syllables and things), and;
"Till that crimson flower blossoms
And Horizon paints a living fire",
thus referring to 'Horizon' in a semi-theistic manner as befits a power that banishes demons, whilst also allowing the poem to cadence more smoothly.

The only other criticism I would make is of the line;
"Confused, misguided, draping believers".
To my ear, again, "draping" sounds out of place, the 'p' sound hurtles out of nowhere to take a stress that could be given to a more virile image; it seems almost anti-climactic after "Confused, misguided", and although I'm surely biased, a heavy iamb could work well in its place, and strengthen the very subtle rhymes, if you saw fit to perhaps revise some punctuation, I mean..
"Confused, misguided, unmanned (for example) believers,
Chasing never-ending gospels;
While time yields not a strict obedience"
The meter pushes in early here, and you get the thrill of that grand panoramic winter's sun-rise in relation to the demons and believers, rather than as an accord all of its own.

Perhaps I'm reading too much into this, but such pow'rful images with indelicate trappings is a master's picture in a plastic frame, you know?

All the best.

A.A.

[deeps]

"Chasing never ending gospels.
While time yields not a strict obedience"

Such amazing lines here,
This is really creative how you came up with this as well.
I found some truth among these words.
This is geniously done. Amazed!

[shedevil]

you it on of my favorite topis right on the mark! ive often stared at the for hours and thought about how sad they looked. good job, im a little sad there going to meet there end tho

[E.H. Monroe]

Icicles: A story in cold, piquancy and frozen nuts.
Short but carried weight like a fat woman stuck in her house. 8 lines to show the drastic change of the seasons until finally the sun does its f*****g job.

Goddman slacker ball of fire.
Nice work

[Michael of Gilead]

You'll shoot your eye out!

[Peony]

How odd and inspiring your perceptions are, that you’re able to give depth to the mundane. I look forward to reading more of your work.

[Shelby]

Stunningly beautiful description. So rythmical. I love the lyrical wording. Truly lovely, but slightly haunting, too.

[Deviant Works]

I believe I have become a fan of yours after only reading two pieces.:) You have an uncanny ability to make your audience think and I simply love it. The imagery in this piece is just superb, by the end I felt trapped in an ice prison awaiting a, "horizon painted in living fire". I do see how icicles could be demons, because it is in cold, bitter darkness that our demons hide, hanging above us, within us. Pointing with their sharp, impending fingers, as cold and lifeless as ice. Well...that is what I gained from this poem anyway. Once again, another brilliant write.