Had all things become
Covered in this sticky red mud
Dark gruel clinging to every axle
Hanging from bowclips and cartboards and saddlestraps
Pig world from sun up to sun down
Wheels entrenched so deep that turning
Meant turning the entire world about the sun
Rather than catching one iota of sensible motion
As each insatiable hatred reduced to flat exasperation
Becomes this mad icing on life, this maniacal quagmire
How would a race proceed
Or king negotiate these great objectionable quandries
Through this vile taunt of repugnant meringue
Yieldless, endless mixture of pandemonium
Feeding on morning humidity, clarified through daily evaporation
Siphoning off final ounces of precious energy
What reasonlessness, to stand knee deep in this torment
Anticipating, wishing for escape without waiting
To dredge the channel open, invoke the bench and branch
Ignite lower heaven over a few slackened robes
Asking to receive the rainshower promised, whether true or false,
But let it fall here, now, to replace this stone
While squeeling, bleating, braying cacophonies
Pile up under weepy half-hearted clouds
The bitterness of pungent bread suffocated in clods of base loam earth
Longing for light, jagged broken light
And the sound, that sharp clack
Of truth, such truth,
Against stained wood
Tailor: This one needs and deserves to be read aloud. It has a wonderful rhythm, and a diction that, even apart from meaning, creates a world-weary tone, stacking word over word so that sound blends with sense. Most excellent. -G
The imagery combines with the underlying theme to make this one notewrothy and memorable: '...Anticipating, wishing for escape without waiting/To dredge the channel open, infuse the bench and branch/Ignite lower heaven over a few slackened robes/Asking to receive the rainshower promised, whether true or false, ...' Impressive work.
Heavy mud and helplessness ooze through the lines of this wonderful piece which begs for rain. Oh how we in Australia understand, despite recent floods. Tis said in twenty years all Europe will have a climate like Australia! Heaven forbid! You have given the reader some memorable word pictures in this piece. 'This vile taunt of repugnant meringue', 'weepy half-hearted clouds/The bitterness of pungent bread suffocated in clods of base loam' are certainly three that stand out for me! Perhaps this is a metaphor for something deeper and more personal, but it works fine for me as is - a personal struggle against the power of nature. Style and passion abound. love, Allie xxxx
Scarlett said it first! My favourite line and the welcome and what a comeback indeed... gripping, hitting stuff. Warrants more than one read, and that's a compliment. More! More! t x
That one phrase...pig world from sun up till sundown! WoW! You have been missed here on PH, so Welcome Back! And what a comeback...I think it will take me ten reads to get all of this one under my belt!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
awsome......................................... MR BELL...awsome