Help | About | Suggestions | Alms | Chat [0] | Users [0] | Log In | Join
 Search:
Poem: Submit | Random | Best | Worst | Recent | Comments   

Edges (Free verse) by Blue Magpie
I have loved the edges of things. There the overlapping patterns make the formed crack and bleed moments of pregnant opportunity back into reality, seeding it with new possibility. The edges of days have blessed my sight, moments when the dark and the light perform their ancient changing of the guard. In the crashing of their power I have touched a flower, a shard of burning colour, hurled to me from high above the world. I know the edges of the land, the sea, a warm and fetid swamp where rainbows used to stand, and replicators came to romp. Where life at last began to be and death was born, while pain and love were only shadows in the dawn. I have gone along the edge of field and forest where sunlight sprinkled green haunts the little spaces in between, and diversity sees fit to manifest itself in more abundant ways than either parent knew in better days. I have lived on the edges of society where piety, and hungers, still to learn their lies, to earn their lives, go hunting through the lost and sleeping souls of those who have no goals, and pay each day anew the cost, for this and senseless dreams. I have worried at the edges of consciousness, pushed back the boundaries of my mind to see what I could find. And I have drunk the waters of distress for I confess, to seeing truths, which having lived too long forget the light they once called home and in their way of growing strong become enslaved to might and lose themselves in all they seek to own. Some friends might say that I have wandered far too long upon the edges of insanity where dreaming forces play and those who live in fantasy believe that they can be some future truth if only they could make themselves perceive. But I have touched the edges of the wise and seen the beauty of their lives, and I have flown, on other worlds, and known, in other words, the reasons for it all. These edges of perception, these times when mere things all focus into one whichever way you look. The sub to subatomic I mistook for the entire universe, and shook with laughter as I learned to see, with angels, who were dancing there with me, how it is these edges set me free.

Up the ladder: Candles
Down the ladder: Astronomical

You must be logged in to leave comments. Vote:

Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
 GraphVotes
10  .. 10
.. 20
.. 20
.. 20
.. 10
.. 00
.. 00
.. 00
.. 00
.. 10
.. 00

Arithmetic Mean: 7.2222223
Weighted score: 6.111111
Overall Rank: 1107
Posted: September 5, 2004 9:57 AM PDT; Last modified: September 5, 2004 9:57 AM PDT
View voting details
The following users have marked this poem on their favorites list:

sliver

Comments:
[9] Dovina @ 24.52.157.176 | 5-Sep-04/10:22 AM | Reply
This is the kind of poem that wins contests. It probably brought loud applause if you read it before an audience. It has the normally desired elements. And don’t get me wrong, I enjoy its flow and appreciate the images and descriptions. But it sacrifices meaning for prose, follow-through for rhythm. It is like a beautiful melody having lyrics that seem beautiful because of their attachment to the music.
[n/a] Blue Magpie @ 212.205.251.30 > Dovina | 6-Sep-04/7:29 AM | Reply
Dear Dovina,
Thank you for your kind words. However the criticism is a bit vague, could you possibly tell me exactly where you think I have sacrificed meaning for prose. The same goes for the comment on follow-through for rhythm, but I also have difficulty knowing what you mean by follow-through, previous to this I have only heard the term used in sports training, tennis etc.
[9] Dovina @ 24.52.157.176 > Blue Magpie | 6-Sep-04/9:02 AM | Reply
It's a matter of preference, more than of quality. Follow through is taking an idea along with a poem as the poem progresses and working the idea into something else or something better or even something wrong. Take Dan Garcia-Black’s recent posting, for example. It lacks the rhythm and prose of yours, but it follows through.

The meaning-prose trade-off is difficult. If we are too vague in image and metaphor, meaning is lost to readers who don’t get it; if too direct, we are accused of simplistic babble. This poem is close to a good balance, but too far to the prose side for my preference.

It’s a good poem.
[10] sliver @ 63.190.72.100 | 5-Sep-04/4:57 PM | Reply
I have enjoyed this immensly, and you danced around many of the edges I walk in life. Well written, well thought out. Definite-10-
[n/a] Blue Magpie @ 212.205.251.30 > sliver | 6-Sep-04/7:30 AM | Reply
Sliver,
Thanks for stopping by, and for enjoying thepoem, it is not finished, I am working on another stanza now relating to belief.
[8] New Life Drug @ 69.106.226.24 | 6-Sep-04/12:32 AM | Reply
yea, poets really do find beauty in the smallest things
[8] Dan garcia-Black @ 216.165.248.108 | 6-Sep-04/9:50 AM | Reply
Well thought-out and competently written. -8-
[7] deleted user @ 81.178.202.250 | 6-Sep-04/11:38 AM | Reply
'moments of pregnant opportunity/back into reality,/ seeding it with new possibility' Is juvenile. The words are clearly there to force rhyme. Noeone going for precision would possibly pick such vague words as reality, possibility and opportunity. It is just too trite, you are trying to make huge generalisation out of nothing.

Romp is also a clear forced rhyme for swamp.

'and death was born,/ while pain and love/ were only shadows in the dawn.' tries to be TS Eliot but sounds more like fred elliot. Again imprecise and hence meaningless.

'of those who have no goals,/and pay each day anew the cost,/ for this and senseless dreams.' again vague sweeping generalisations. This pattern seem to repeat itself through your poem like a rhyme.
[6] horus8 @ 24.130.62.63 > deleted user | 6-Sep-04/12:00 PM | Reply
This is easilly the wisest thing you've ever tooted.
[6] horus8 @ 24.130.62.63 | 6-Sep-04/11:59 AM | Reply
God...Long, boring and crammed full of angel cocca.
[9] wilco @ 4.226.81.243 | 8-Sep-04/6:33 PM | Reply
Very pretty. Grows a bit stale in a couple of spots and there are some forced rhymes, but overall I like it. Been a while since I've seen you on here. Welcome back.
[n/a] Blue Magpie @ 212.205.251.41 > wilco | 8-Sep-04/10:41 PM | Reply
Hi Wilco,
Thanks for the welcome. Its been a while since I have visited here, or anywhere. I have rewritten the above a good deal since posting it, although the more intelligent feedback came from elsewhere.
[7] deleted user @ 81.178.202.250 > Blue Magpie | 9-Sep-04/12:47 AM | Reply
Do not be so pathetic. It is clear what is wrong with this poem. It is long and incredibly dull due to a number of abstractions and forced almost soundless rhymes. I would be willing to bet the 'intelligent' advice from elsewhere went a little bit like this: 'oh, blue magpie, you are so talented, I love everything about this apart from the imprecision of word choice, the triteness of trying to define life in a few lines (which oh my god appear to rhyme), and its dull rambling.
[7] Scarlett @ 66.210.233.6 | 23-Feb-06/3:13 PM | Reply
I absolutely LOVE the beginning of this - the first two lines especially. You could make it tight with the examples and less attempt on the rhyme ~ this could be a beauty.
[n/a] Blue Magpie @ 212.205.251.110 > Scarlett | 27-Feb-06/2:31 AM | Reply
Dear Scarlet,
It is nice to see someone is reading stuff that isn't in the 'Recent' list. If anyone wanted to see the the mildly edited version of this that it ended up as it was recently published in the 2005/2006 edition of The Eclectic Muse.
232 view(s)




Track and Plan your submissions ; Read some Comics ; Get Paid for your Poetry
PoemRanker Copyright © 2001 - 2024 - kaolin fire - All Rights Reserved
All poems Copyright © their respective authors
An internet tradition since June 9, 2001