Standing at the Rusted Gate

Standing at the Rusted Gate

A Poem by Ken e Bujold

At dusk, shadows reign. The sun

like a spent gimp hobbling from the day’s fields

across the pebbled taupe of an implacable shore

no longer capable of holding back the dark

thoughts of impermanence --

the ineluctability of waves tugging

a soul out to sea, into the inky depths

of time’s subaqueous vault.

 

I imagine Borges, or

on rarer occasions reach for Milton,

for inspiration, some flicker of how

one might navigate the inevitability

of inherited pupils winking back to black,

dissolving a god-granted sense

to atomicity of a molecular malfeasance.

 

And why, in view of all that remains

as yet unread, I will succumb before

the will succumbs -- like a tree

or half-formed cloud -- to the unfathomableness

of a recalcitrant star’s resistance to light

a way to the blank verse of a universe

rubs me raw, seems

all the proof one needs

in answer to the question: is

there any unifying principle to this existence? 


Ken e Bujold


© 2024 Ken e Bujold


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Reviews

Another fine piece of writing somewhat dark but alluring Ken

Posted 9 Months Ago


Have read and read, mind and brain at war because you use the dictionary as a friend whereas I think of thoughts needed when trying to discover a word as core of that single thought in the first place! . Which is also how I almost understand the reason for your quite complex (to me) poem: both statement and question, wed for life, long or short, valued or not, personal or not. Not? Is surely one's individually at play? Searching for meaning is part of enquiries or -simply, nosiness. Wanting to know everything but what is everything and is there time and capability to find it all? Perhaps. Maybe I need more time to discover what you mean.. could return.

Posted 9 Months Ago


A reverie on many things. Playing around the intellect. Existential and somewhat literary medative. Excellent piece.

Posted 9 Months Ago


Hi Ken, My sense tells me that you are looking toward death and darkness, and you seek explanation in other poet's writings....the sun seems to have waned and the universe is all black, like even the stars can't shine through.....and it seems like you are afraid to die before you are, in simple terms, prepared....you question your existence, and who can really answer that; everyone exists, depends how....very complex and meditative; great forceful writing
Warmly, B

Posted 9 Months Ago


A, an existential meditation. Also a Borges fan. Great read!

Posted 10 Months Ago


As I earlier stated, a real tour de force of your exceptional talent.

Winston

Posted 10 Months Ago


An existentialist piece here. The speaker contemplates with frustration the relentless reshuffling nature of physical life and seeks a unifying principle for it. Many have pursued that goal and left their varying opinions. For me, it is two words: I am. It is the only unvarying thing I have ever known.

PS: You might take another look at the last line of verse two. It has good alliteration, but I fear it may leave many perplexed.

Posted 10 Months Ago


Hoh!

Big questions here, big language and big allusions - love Milton, personally, and there are a few sections that really leapt off the page:

"... into the inky depths/ of time’s subaqueous vault."

I'm a big fan of the liquid connotation attached to your word choices there.

"... the inevitability/ of inherited pupils winking back to black,..."

I see cat eyes, somehow, and a kind of x-files pupil blink - super unique, and there's a double meaning to pupil that really makes you ponder. (Not to mention ACDC).

"... I will succumb before/ the will succumbs..."

Favorite bit - stellar word-play and a powerful sentiment.

As to the poem's innate question, I'm sure we all have our own perspectives on an answer (there sure seems to be a plethora in literature). Personally, I feel that questions on the unifying principles of humanity are altogether separate from the ones that concern existence - on the latter I tend to appreciate Nietzsche, and on the former it has always been Dostoevsky.

As to their overlap, Camus tends to satisfy what I'm looking for - not sure if you're familiar, but I name dropped them all anyways.

Pleasure reading Ken - brings me back to Uni and I appreciate how everything comes together in the work here.

Cheers, well done,

-Ook


Posted 10 Months Ago


Ken e Bujold

10 Months Ago

Thanks Ook. Love the review.
Ookpik

10 Months Ago

Hah, no worries

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Added on January 21, 2024
Last Updated on January 21, 2024

Author

Ken e Bujold
Ken e Bujold

Somewhere in Ontario, Canada



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A Poem by Ken e Bujold