Rain drenched battered spires
Gothic sentinels face the night
Centuries since first foundation laid
Forever majestic, defying time
Cursed and often spat upon
As intrigue and whispers passed through
Yet still a refuge for the weary
The ancient message here resounds.
These walls have known the loving union
They have welcomed the tiny child
They have blessed the final voyage
They have sheltered wayward travelers
and yet...
Sometimes I fear they can be measured
And the stones and steeples are only shapes
That all such places east to west
Arise alas, from shifting blazing desert dreams
Yet what is within that silhouette at night?
Only shadow and nothing more?
The stuff of waking dreams in mirrors?
Or signposts to an ethereal shore..........
Lost within a honeycomb of nameless alleys
Battered rooftops and darkened windows
The squirming shifting shadow dwellers
Seek a dry corner and curl up alone.
The Spires is the setting so not knowing anything about them [it] I googled and found Spires in Cork and in Houston. Since the first foundation was laid centuries ago, I am thinking Cork but the photographs they published didn't seem at all right. The Spires are very darkly charismatic in this great piece of Literature so I would really like to have more information- could you direct me to a computer source for some history on this place? The Spires cast a mighty shadow across this, stately, common, tragic, hopeful, all human fates have come to pass under them. This is a very poignant use of setting to drive the poem down into the streets and into midst of the humanity that struggles to stay alive there. Lost within a honeycomb of nameless alleys Battered rooftops and darkened windows The squirming shifting shadow dwellers Seek a dry corner and curl up alone.- - - - - - - - - - - I have always thought you a very very very very good poet, Edmund, but I think I did you a disservice. You are a great poet and should be standing with great poets from the past and present.. If anybody doesn't believe me, they should read this poem. It says all that needs to be said about talent and heart, and spirit breathed words. This gets the maximum rating allowed here and a revered place on my Fav list.
True Susie, Quite True. Edmund stands an inch higher than most contemporary poets we see and read..
Hello Zuzana, The spires that I had in mind were church spires, imagined extending into the stormy darkness, wet and ancient. I began by marveling at their stoic beauty and history and then remarked that some people find religion and its symbols revolting without understanding that the human weakness of those that may betray a trust as representatives of a church or mosque should not be used to condemn the entirety of something that is good. I even introduce the philosophical questioning of man asking if the church is end the end just a building. Only to look upon the hope and endurance that it represents and despite the pitiful creatures that break our hearts, leaving us feeling ashamed at our acceptance of such existences the key is that the heart is touched and because a heart may break it also means that it may feel deeply and within that is the answer and hope itself.
Hi Edmund, Very poignant and provocative write. Haunting. Lost within a honeycomb of nameless alleys- who is not? ? ! ! Battered rooftops and darkened windows The squirming shifting shadow dwellers Seek a dry corner and curl up alone. The image of the homeless street-dweller is expressed so hauntingly. Most apt choice of words. Very disturbing. How do I sleep tonight! ! !
How wonderful to connect, can you imagine the writers here on PH. Sitting about on a sunny day sharing observations with good humor, personal insight and even polite challenging of beliefs in search of knowledge and understanding. I am a mass of contradictions and I hope that you are too. Some people ask how I can believe one thing when I believe some other thing. They see them as contradictory when in fact within my philosophy that fit as neatly as hawk feathers! Hope all is well.....you are too kind!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Yes, it is interesting how you led us to the shadows in this piece. I'm listening to Everyday by Carly Comando as I read your poem and it seems to fit perfectly with the mood. This is gothic and dark...made me feel like somehow someone had grabbed my hand to take me on a flight of observation from sky to church to street...well done.