Treasure Island

s./j. goldner

(March 2nd,1984 / USA)

Autumn Gust


The artist is the artist is the
lover is the destroyer
is the creator.

Combative in nature.
Eternal in life.
Annihilated in love.

Stoic hands of incandescent grace
weave
and he is erased.

Submitted: Monday, October 29, 2007
Edited: Wednesday, April 20, 2011

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Comments about this poem (Autumn Gust by s./j. goldner )

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  • Ridge Cahill (12/16/2008 12:45:00 PM)

    Awesome in every sense of the word, truly. The grit that permeates from this poem is delicious. (Report) Reply

  • C. P. Sharma (12/13/2008 8:47:00 AM)

    he is erased....
    and he is frozen
    in his creation
    to find a new birth
    for a strange new world
    and the world says
    he is a unique artist
    each time he paints anew
    but him the world could never view.
    CP (Report) Reply

  • Will Barber (10/26/2008 4:41:00 AM)

    So eloquent - so full of meaning and nonsense - our temprarily skulls explode.



    l (Report) Reply

  • Lorraine Margueritte Gasrel Black (10/24/2008 5:45:00 PM)

    How brief our lives are when we wear the masks of paradox and yet we can come front faced with our souls and still play many roles.A ten from me keep up the good work.Your postings are interesting. (Report) Reply

  • Shayne M (2/11/2008 9:38:00 AM)

    Now, this I Can Sink My Poetic Teeth In..More Raw Poetry Please? ! (Report) Reply

  • Will Barber (11/11/2007 8:39:00 PM)

    Shades of Shakti, dancing on the corpse of Shiva.

    Creation is impossible without destruction - and this spare verse is eloquent and meaningful.

    Truly, this poem destroys expectation of a sweet verse imitative of Sara Teasdale!

    - Will (Report) Reply

  • Alison Cassidy (11/3/2007 6:46:00 PM)

    A fine allegorical poem in which nature becomes art on a mere gust of wind.

    'Stoic hands of incandescent grace
    weave
    and he is erased.'

    I wish I'd written this - superb. love, Allie xxxx (Report) Reply

Read all 16 comments »

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