Vesper

There is this sound that can drown 

 out anything. A primitive language 

lilting through the window (I would 

rather not talk anymore   --maybe 

just listen) until the high mountain

inside me becomes more like a ghost 

of morning. Possibility. There are things 

I can catch and things I can not. 

For example, that sound~ a chorus 

of crickets and tree frogs humming 

contentment, weaving an evening 

together where everything that lays flat 

is waiting to grow into a mountain. Look. 

I need the music of the unaware, 

the smooth notes that turn silence 

into what ought to be                     the music of stars

Reviews

[Ern M. Yoshimoto]

this is music of the aware. the persona knows more than most. and the burden of knowing weighs heavily on her and she longs for escape - even a temporary one.
There is this sound that can drown
out anything. A primitive language
this first stanza really got me wondering. i paused and thought, what could this mean? the more i read, the more entangled i got into this drama unfolding. there is a desperate moaning - yet the words are so articulate and sharp.

they say that highly intelligent people are prone to depression, and thus, self-destructive behaviours. this seems to be the theme vibrating in this verse. 'the smooth notes that turn silence into what ought to be the music of stars.' pick your poison, it seems to be saying. we all have vices that bring relief, short-lived.

it is a heavy work, but the style and exquisite writing, the enjambments, the striking imagery make it a thrilling read. it feels a bit post-punk, and a bit literary.

[Eilis]

Hey, Ern, thanks so much. Your comments do make me view my writing in a fresh light and that is a gift to a person struggling to create. Feeling mentally and creatively stale as I do at the moment. I really enjoy reading what you see in the poem. I do have to find outward things to ground me. I struggled with addiction as a young person but have managed to find grounding in creativity, and literature and nature over the years instead. I hope that will remain an anchor for me. Thanks for your always thoughtful comments. I am grateful for your time.

[Ern M. Yoshimoto]

thank you for sharing that. reflecting on your works i've read so far, i find a lot of pain and struggle buried in the words. but there is also strength, perseverence, and gracefulness. your style is unique and explores the human condition in a way that is subtle. this requires a sharp mind and an elegant hand. i know you will rediscover your voice and start writing again. i believe your desire to write will win out in the end. i hope it is soon. but please, rest, recuperate, forget if you need to, and enjoy being alive. the pen will pick itself up.

[Eilis]

Hi, Erb, thanks for this encouraging reply. Sorry for my delay in responding, I’ve been unwell. Your kind words are much appreciated here.

[Eilis]

Sorry, my phone tends to autocorrect your name even after I unautocorrect it. I don’t know why it does this, but it is frustrating. Sorry.

[Ern M. Yoshimoto]

Hey Eillis. ive been away too and only just read your reply. i hope you are alright. get well soon!

[SkinlessFrank]

What I like about this piece is that reminder that our own high mountains amount to not much in the face of Nature’s music. One of my favorite sounds here happens in early April, when the ice on the pond thaws and the wood frogs start up their chorus, hundreds of them in unison. I image that the tree frogs you mention are also such a sound. But you are so right. These sounds (and another for me is the sound of heavy rain on the roof) can soothe us by reminding us of our insignificance. And it is funny how being reminded of that makes our troubles diminish, if only for a short spell. When I think of the music of the unaware, I think of the music of omniscience, of the universe. And this is what you remind me of here.

It's odd that it takes these sounds to lull us away from our circumspection. Have you ever wondered why in moments of desperation we seem to forget that things outside our small troubles are the true mountains?

[Eilis]

Hi, thanks for reading this and sharing your view of the ideas. I confess reading the poem that I find the ideas challenging myself at this stage of life. It’s funny how things ebb and flow in our understanding as we go through different circumstances. I love the hum of the natural world. The cycles —that dependability — are comforting. The way everything seems to have a song that is not questioned or altered to suit an aesthetic or fad. Knowing the frogs will sing each year and what that signifies is an anchor when other things fail to live up to hopes or expectations. Perspective can definitely be helpful, but also confusing. There is so much to consider. Thanks for reading my poems and offering thoughtful responses.

[barleygirl]

I love your poem, your artistic way of expressing scenes & feelings, plus your unique point of view about all things you address in writing. This poem brings to mind how we, as poets, tend to try to pack one poem full of everything we wanted to say, but then feeling like we did not get it all. As a forgetful old person myself, I don't worry about capturing it all. It may take a few poems & a piece of prose or two before I actually understand what I'm trying to say. Your poem seems to giving permission to just capture what we capture & not to worry when & if a poem is "done"! *smile* Fondly, Margie

[Eilis]

I love what you see in this, Margie. I have to make myself practice that letting go of the idea of perfection. It’s nice when a simple idea is appreciated when it felt somewhat insular or insignificant in my mind.

I’m glad you enjoyed the poem. I always enjoy reading your insights. Thank you for sharing them.

[kentuck14]

Nature has given us a wonderful concert . . . the world would try to hide it because it cannot even begin to compete with it.
T

[Eilis]

Very true, Tom. It is hard to rival the inherent music of the earth.

Thank you for visiting today. Always nice to see you.

[NotUsinganymore]

Very nice poem c: Nature is pretty to listen to. I grew up in the countryside.

[Eilis]

Thank you, JungLee. I'm glad you liked the poem.

[Beccy]

I embrace many aspects of this modern world, the technology, the advances in science, particularly in the field of medicine. But of late, it seems that we are producing solutions to problems that really do not exist; or if they do, are simply a product of those very advances.

It thus follows, I believe, that the more we move away from nature, the more the music fades and the harder that primitive language become to recall, let alone decipher.

We ignore the chorus at our peril.

Beccy.

[Eilis]

I agree, Beccy. There are some things we would do well to just leave alone. But, we seem to have the impulse to tinker. We may tinker ourselves out of a home.

Thanks for your thoughtful comment. I love that primitive language.

[Mark Tisdale]

Interesting. Your use of enjambment creates little pockets of thought that I quite enjoy. And to read it in a jittering fashion, to stop and read each line, have a think before moving on, that's fine. I don't know how it flows however if I try to read it as a whole. Then, I feel there is music I'm missing. The tildes are especially confusing.

[Eilis]

Hi, Mark. Nice to meet you. I checked your page and you have no writing posted, so I’m guessing you are new here. If so, welcome!

I assume by tildes you are talking about the dashes? It’s just something I use sometimes to create a pause because the pause is there in my mind while I’m writing.

I appreciate your feedback on this. Enjambment seems to be a thing people like or don’t like on my page. It’s something I tend to use in a way that doesn’t always make sense to people, but it is part of the intended effect. Here, part of the music. There being music in the silence as well as the brain continues connecting notes or ideas. At least that’s true for me, but I know we are all different.

Thank you for your visit and for sharing your impressions. I look forward to reading some of your work.

[Mark Tisdale]

I have no intention of posting my poetry here, because I do not write poetry. I do however like to read quite a lot of it.

The tilde (~) is primarily a character used in mathematics or computer programming. In language it has three common uses that I have seen.

1. To indicate approximation. Example: There are ~3 men with guns in the lavatory, please send help.

2. To indicate repetition. Example: The men in the lavatory have started shooting~! (a stupid use, but meant to have the same effect as "shooting!!!")

3. To indicate song-like qualities. The tilde can sometimes be used to mark rising and falling pitch, and often simply indicates singing in lieu of a musical note. Example:

They started shooting~
Oh yeah~
The men in the lav, baby~
They killed everybody~

[Eilis]

I know what a tilde is, thanks for the explanation though. I see, looking back at the poem that I mistakenly used two tildes when I meant to use dashes. A hazard of typing on my phone. I will change that. It wasn't intentional.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

I love living out in the county where the lack of pollution and city lights leaves the sky wide open for view with a field of a million stars. The moon shines bright, leaning to hear the sound of tree frogs in the night. This is so pretty and relatable and lives right outside my door. Beautiful!

[Eilis]

Thank you, Linda! I’m glad you could appreciate this poem. Sounds like you have a lovely view where you are.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

and much of that primitive language cannot be put to words...they are sounds, feelings that arise inside like mountains...
those smooth notes? you capture the idea of them so well here that we can imagine...
and tonight...i am going to walk outside of my house here in the woods, and look up.
thanks for that reminder...
and i am so glad you did not toss this one....it is too good.
that which we often write and scoff as being not worth keeping can be the best poems we write.
always our own worst critics...
j.

[Eilis]

Thank your for this kind comment, Jacob. I’m glad I didn’t toss the poem either. It’s hard to be objective about our own work sometimes, but I’m trying to be more patient with myself and my poems.

I hope you have a lovely walk this evening. I’m glad my poem could inspire you. Thank you again. I always appreciate hearing from you.

[Gee]

Bollocks, I was expecting to find a poem about mods and rockers, something Quadropheniaesque, with Daltrey belting out accompanying tracks...humph. Instead I get nature's orchestra, crickets, cats, bats and rats with foxes barking and owls a hootin' and in the distance some lamp lit shootin'. So I guess I'll have to be content and appreciate the finely written words you've sent.
Good afternoon ma'am :))

[Eilis]

He he, I do enjoy your visits, Gee. My mod/rocker poem is still in progress. I’ll let you know when it’s done.

Thanks for visiting. Good morning to you, across the pond.