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!

[Chris Shaw]

This is so beautiful Eilis and reminds me of evenings on the deck of our boat when we just sit and listen to the sounds of nature in the middle of nowhere. Having said that, moored up at Lynch Island in the Thames is a special place where your words have just transported me to. Of course the presence of star light makes it even more attractive. I can hear and see bats believe it or not. That's where you took me. Bat's flying blindly above our boat and back into the trees. The knocking on the steel of our boat above the waterline, by the swans with their beaks and cygnets in tow. I am in my element. Thank you for that.

Chris

[Eilis]

Your comment is a poem in itself, Chris. Thank you for that. I love bats, and that way they usher in the evening.

You’ve just transported me to the Thames, which is a gift in itself. I’m happy the poem held meaning for you.

Thank you for reading.

[emmajoy]

Your format is unusual to read over the first time. But, when I read it a second time, realised that the run from end of a phrase then dropped off on the next line - added the time for the sound or 'view' grew or altered tack. Such a clever way of pausing the reader's thought. That's how it is when looking, hearing, bd being in the All-Around. Sometimes, no! - OFTEN the Whole blots out the small specks,the brief sounds, minutiae that are mere part of Life's chain. You moved quite subtly from unaware to more than.. a blessing perhaps. Interesting.. moving..

[Eilis]

Thank you, Emma. I appreciate you taking me through your journey with the poem. I’m always glad to hear those things.

I also love your summation of the poem and how you built on it with your own understanding.

Many thanks for stopping by! Always nice to see you on my page.

[emmajoy]

You're welcome, i must try to visit more often..

[gram linski]

sounds like a monk talking, lol a lovely meditative affair, the music of the unaware gently bathing me soothing me, the music of the stars sing to me , I have heard them, a beautiful song,

[Eilis]

Thank you, Gram. I do channel my inner monk sometimes, ha ha. You just gotta. You know.

read moreThank you, Gram. I do channel my inner monk sometimes, ha ha. You just gotta. You know.

Glad you liked this one. And have caught the spirit.

[Eilis]

I hate when this happens. I don’t remember what I said here that the site won’t show, but I’m sure it was very clever and poetic, ha ha. I’m glad you enjoyed this one, Gram.

[CD Campbell]

What is most arresting aspect of this poem is how one can feel humbled in the presence of simple natural music. The line about the mountain inside diminishing and being replaced by a new ethereal force is powerful. It's like an erosion inside to replaced with a deeper understanding. We could very well take anyone, tell them to hush, listen, and let unfold a sound to rival an organ in a great cathedral. What you say in your poem is why a lot of people have dumped society and become happy hermits.

Another thing that I like is the build up towards the end "music of the stars" . It's as if the expansion from crickets to the universe is a learning experience indescribable and your words are just a tip of the iceberg, but still it is a start to knowing. The music of the unaware becomes somewhat of a sublime teacher. Idk, after reading your poem I can close my eyes and remember the last time I've been miles from anywhere and it makes you feel very small, about as small as tree frogs and crickets and they have as much of a right to sing as we do. I really like this poem.

[Eilis]

Thanks, CD. I was actually going to throw this poem out. I wrote it the other night before falling asleep and thought it wasn't worth anything. But, then last night I couldn't sleep and decided to work on it. And it came together. I'm glad there is some sense to it when you read it, because I wasn't sure if it would make sense to anyone but me. So, thanks for expressing how you get it.

I love that quiet and that music. How they mix. And the feeling of smallness you mention as well. It's great to stop and realize how little I matter in the scheme of things. Good perspective.

Appreciate your thoughtful comment, and expressed understanding. Always nice to hear from you.

[CD Campbell]

Well, I'm glad you didn't throw it out. I'm starting to think everything has value when tweaked.

[Eilis]

Yeah, I just have to have patience and let them become themselves when they’re ready.