This Poem was Submitted By: Joanne M Uppendahl On Date: 2004-09-15 13:15:30 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Stones Will Sing

                                                             All that I am and plan amounts to little  in the hours of darkness I have searched. There I’ve met the wordless, truer me who doesn’t flinch at little accidents-- the one who’s full of fire and floats above  Earth’s astrolabe and waits for bells to stop their longing, pulsing, pining metal sounds to hear the softer part of boundless voice: your song is part of me and mine of you.  Stones will sing the sounds that we compose when we no longer hear with woven bones.

Copyright © September 2004 Joanne M Uppendahl

Additional Notes:
An astrolabe was an instrument used in astronomy to find out the distance of stars from the earth, the position of the sun and moon, the length of days, and many other things.

This Poem was Critiqued By: Latorial D. Faison On Date: 2004-10-07 09:51:21
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.80556
Hi Joanne, The Bible does say that "rocks will cry out" in the absence of human praise. Your poem reminded me so much of that scriptural lesson. This piece makes one think about life of course, and even moreso how we live it. It's like we spend our whole lives thinking of something trivial, when life is really about the smaller more sincere things. STONES WILL SING I think the title is so appropriate and carries such a piece with it. There's a song that's sang in church that has the verse "Never will a rock cry out in my stead, He's worthy of all my praise." But your poem suggests that even when we are gone, even at the ends of the earth, the stones just might be there to lift Him up. Now, I don't think that your poem was rooted in such the religious aspect, but more on the subject of love. It just goes to show you that 50 people can read the same poem and walk away with something totally different. You had one aim, and I my perception is that of another. I think this is a fantastic poem. It's stylish and very creative. You have taken your time and penned a thoughtful, thought provoking piece here. Thanks for sharing it. Latorial

This Poem was Critiqued By: Karen Ann Jacobs On Date: 2004-10-03 15:04:45
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.66667
Dear Joanne, This poem of oneness with the universe captured my eyes and made me see through a telescope where all that exists is bodies in space, stars, nebulas, clouds, and fellow planets. I felt a part of those bodies and I knew that I experienced this through you who felt it first and managed to capture that experience onto a computer screen in words. You amaze me and inspire me. Seriously, you need to compile a book of poetry, and send it to a publisher, then you need to autograph one for me. I can see the book, the whole cover, back and front, is a picture from space. Our future is literally in the stars, but we have to get there. We need poets, like you, to inspire this generation and the ones down the road to see beyond their feet on the ground. You know, Asimov’s magazine is online and they take poetry submissions. Kay
This Poem was Critiqued By: Thomas Edward Wright On Date: 2004-09-28 21:43:28
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.75000
Hi- Have been out of poetry for awhile, doing other things. I stop by and read now and then. When I sit to write the trite and meaningless find their way onto the pages. So, I'm trying but having little luck with anything. Nice to see that someone is steadily productive. Enjoyed it. t.
This Poem was Critiqued By: Mell W. Morris On Date: 2004-09-23 16:15:14
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
HRH Emeritus Laureate,L.L.: As I inscribed your latest title, I realized I had made you hell! Heavenly daze is what I'd call this poem, my pick of yours for the month. (My sister's oft-used epithet is heavenly days! which makes Eric and me swoon with laughter.) How can anyone fail to swoon at your heavenly daze? It is a beautiful poem that throbs with life, sub-life, and matters of which we dare not speak. I am only surprised I haven't encountered you in the darkness of your search. The first line gives the reader the notion of perspective, comparing your being to that of the universe. Then you titillate us that when you're out there searching, you are your REAL self, no flincher, but flinger of fire. WOW. We all long to know this version of yourself, extremis, floater beyond where man has gone, extant. Since I've seen no bird (there's likely one there we cannot see with human eyes), there must be bells with concomitant music of message to you from the other. These are no ordinary bellwether bells but the belletriste calls them longing, pulsing, pining metal sounds sent from her bellboy (sorry) for the sofest part of her being combined with his. Such music I long to hear now before it is lost or filed away in an array of empyrean boxes. Your ending couplet is exquisite...we all know stones sing...but not that they already have your music awaiting your arrival. How wondrous! Every line of your piece delivers a tender touch, a caring caress, a handsel of gorgeous blooms only you can grow. This is a bloom greater than self or anything of this planet. Nothing left to say, great enchantress. I am quite emotional these days and your poem was a grand experience which I felt in every cell as if it were composed for me alone while others play with dollies, etc. Not you, little sister. Thank you for writing such beauty. Mell
This Poem was Critiqued By: Robert Wyma On Date: 2004-09-18 16:42:03
Critiquer Rating During Critique: Unknown
Dear Joanne, I can hear the harmony of spheres ringing in your poem, as the symphony above, is reflected below. This has to include the discordant imperfections of the unripe, and of course the perfected tones of the ripened. I love the subtle rhyme in "who doesn’t flinch at little accidents". You have packed this concise piece with aliterative "f" sounds in the second stanza, which gives the poem some punchiness. This shifts in the third stanza to softer "l" and sibilant "s" sounds in contrast. The last stanza has internal rhyme in the first line, which is fantastic, abundant soft "s" sounds again, and then finishes with a statement that punctuated and closed with contrast in "bones". A great finish. What do I draw from all of this. The human, planetary and steller mixed well with purpose, and that the woven bones are one rung, as are the stoney bones of the planet, amidst the symphonic unseen orchestra. Thanks for sharing. I always enjoy. Robert
This Poem was Critiqued By: Rachel F. Spinoza On Date: 2004-09-15 17:53:50
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
I think this would be clearer if it began: All that I [plan and am] amounts because [plan amounts sounds] like a phrase and it stopped me for a second but perhaps it is just me] in the hours of darkness I have searched. There I’ve met the wordless, truer me lovely who doesn’t flinch at little accidents--[good assonance with with astrolabe] the one who’s full of fire and floats above Earth’s astrolabe and waits for bells to stop Wow downright E. dickinsonian! their longing, pulsing, pining metal sounds to hear the softer part of boundless voice: [wonderful] your song is part of me and mine of you. Stones will sing the sounds that we compose when we no longer hear with woven bones. incredible ending to a soft and meaningful piece.
This Poem was Critiqued By: James Edward Schanne On Date: 2004-09-15 14:19:52
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.00000
You know sometimes my soul is so full of hot air it floats before and above the physical me, luckily yours is a higher self, and your poem a higher piece of art. Thanks for letting me read and comment.
This Poem was Critiqued By: Mark Steven Scheffer On Date: 2004-09-15 14:11:56
Critiquer Rating During Critique: Unknown
Great Aunty, A beautiful lyric! Written with great, sure control of your craft. Kudos. Mark
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