Roaring river song Blues

Roaring river song Blues

The skeletal hand

with the blood red slashing

nail varnish

flickering incessantly

 

just out of reach/mind

 caught in passing

in the corner of the ...

like damaged strip lights

in an abandoned mall

dust motes drowning innocence

and the fall of the Damned

and the madness of fools

only a snapped broken

fingernail away

Reviews

[Eilis]

My mind keeps shifting in between idea/states on this one. I’m waffling between the power of rushing water and dream. By me, the rivers encountered are this mad, wild vein in the earth that will swallow you if you misstep and slip in. Especially this time of year as the rains are almost constant and the rivers crest or fall over their banks. So, the roaring in your title is the sound in my head as I read.

But, then I feel as though the river is a symbol of the riverous mind and how it absorbs ideas, memories, images and turns them into a kind of tumult that isn’t easily translatable. The shadow of death reaching out, the ruins of an undefinable time or experience. The ambiguity of experience itself. These things all become part of the mind-landscape and maybe shape the inner world even without our conscious awareness.

I found your apocalyptic imagery particularly disconcerting. The last man on earth thing of the abandoned mall and broken lights and dust motes settling over everything. The silent dances of dust stir something primal in the mind, I think. And there is a primal sense that pervades the whole poem. The conscious and unconscious seeking a melding or reconciliation. Meeting of the two minds housed within us.

But, finally, I’m confronted by the madness and the damned. Can’t help but think of the vulnerability of Hamlet and his unraveling. When the day begins there’s no telling how it will end. The mind mostly keeps things level, but like the river it will rise and fall at provocations out of its control.

I’m probably doing a bit of mad rambling myself, so I’ll stop there. But say, lastly, the blips and remnants that lurk in the corners...there is a strong sense of their pull here. The river is calling.

[gram linski]

thanks, Eilis, I found my apocalyptic imagery particularly disconcerting, I was just chilling out watching the ducks, lol, and as for that mad Danish f**k, don't get me started, fairly certain we're related, haha, thanks again for telling my conscious mind what the f**k he is talking about

[Coyote Poetry]

Powerful words and thoughts shared dear friend.
"and the fall of the Damned
and the madness of fools
only a snapped broken
fingernail away"
The above lines made me wish to know the final end. Life is like a roaring river. We cannot control. Thank you for sharing the amazing poetry.
Coyote

[gram linski]

thanks Coyote, life in the rapids, and we have lost the paddle, lol, but we can always turn into s**t creek

[Coyote Poetry]

I agree and you are welcome my dear friend.

[Chris Shaw]

A roaring river can be a place of great danger. I live close to the Thames where winter rainfall from the source has turned the river into a swollen monster. The skeletal hand with the red nail varnish knows the power of the river. People can go missing round here, and sadly can end up in its waters. Your final four lines, the fall of the dammed, the madness of fools reminded me those people may only be a snapped finger nail away from ending it all. It happens. The river is both a giver and a taker. All powerful. Should be respected at all times. That's where you took me gram, and there was some pretty bleak imagery. I spend much time boating, I see the underwater divers out in action. Many a depressed soul has been swallowed.

Chris

[gram linski]

aye the sirens call is loud, we are from the sea, Chris it is the mightiest of masters and the gentlest of lovers,

[Robert Trakofler]

wow Gram I used to do a lot of rapids kayaking (I miss that) this reminds me of how blatantly unconcerned the water can be at times from the surface it almost always looks so calm and serene sorta calls you to it:) But then you jump in and all of the sudden you are a speck of no account and you better learn how to move with its flow cause there ain't no use fighting its current! The snapped fingernail line got me the most I envisioned hanging on to a rock and losing my grip

[gram linski]

Hey B, thanks man, went white water rafting once and that was an amazing adrenalin buzz, this felt like my soul was being swept away towards the rapids, lol, the title was the last line,

[emmajoy]

Undoubtedly, probably wrong.. but i see this as molten lava creeping and slurping its way towards space, land, humanity! Reading again to find the reason why my previous thought: guess its the ' blood red slashing nail varnish'. Seems control has gone out of the window, words written at a sitting, thoughts spilling ove. Phrase by phrase there's a spilling of more than something and yet you are creative and it only needs a nudge or cue and you might just go with the flow. . ..

[gram linski]

thanks emmajoy, aye something like that, lol, I was just watching the ducks and the black wet lava river flow,

[emmajoy]

Think I got it wrong ! :)

[gram linski]

haha, don't worry about it, most people do

[Chris]

a background's cacophony filling the space behind the eyes as the mind wanders another morning's worth of distractions... "Who says God doesn't laugh?"

[gram linski]

well said, Sir, aye the Old boy does have a weird and wonderful sense of humour, lol,