This Poem was Submitted By: Regis L Chapman On Date: 2008-08-24 23:45:51 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!To Listen to Music While Reading this Poem, just Click Here!
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Shadows and Light in the restless tide of breath
I breathe again
awake again I
dissolve my twin self in the twi-night
between shadows and light
with the unfolding of time
I notice at last
days as a group
nights as a soup
future now past
between the shadows and light
in the field out behind
wrong and right
of the seasons in Gibran and Rumi
all things come from me, to me
and my God, you're beautiful
my love
my goddess
to be
Jagat Mohini
show me
know me
what may be
what lay be- hind
the glaciers and meadows
ideals and talk
of light and shadow
under which we walk
your hand is mine
my ears are yours
together divine
of course,
you're right
it's all
shadows and light |
|
Copyright © August 2008 Regis L Chapman
Additional Notes:
Days pass. My love grows, even in absence.
Om,
DurgaDas
This Poem was Critiqued By: Claire H. Currier On Date: 2008-09-07 20:23:23
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Beautifully penned and very well presented. So nice to find such a love poem which is indeed straight from your heart. God Bless, Claire
This Poem was Critiqued By: marilyn terwilleger On Date: 2008-09-05 01:00:47
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Hi Regis....you seem to be pouring your heart out in this poem...in fact you are. I know you miss your love terribly and some of this poem I get and some I don't. But that makes no matter...what does matter is you are using your poetry to soothe and sustain you....it will do that....of this I am sure.
Marilyn
This Poem was Critiqued By: Dellena Rovito On Date: 2008-09-04 15:30:34
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Regis,
This is good! Love the rhyming flow. And not long winder. I love Gibran.
All is shadows and light from energy........
And the now moves by to fast turning to the past.
Hidden in this "and my God, you're beautiful... my love"
Absolutely, you see God in your beloved.
How nice.
Dellena
.
This Poem was Critiqued By: Mark Steven Scheffer On Date: 2008-08-26 16:58:49
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Regis,
I've read your bio posted at this site and I'd say you're definitely wired right for poetry.
Now, I face the eternal TPL question: how does one "critique"? If you want a critiquer who takes out the red pen and says this works, that doesn't - I can point you to a lot of sites where you'll find that. Let me know.
I'm assuming those who submit here want something else. It sure as hell isn't the prize money anymore. The graphics here are top notch, and it's so easy to submit your poem formatted as you intend it. If you've visited a site maintained or administered by Yuko - not sure if that's spelled right, I just call it "Yucko" anyway - you know that's a huge credit to Chris and this site, and worth sticking around by itself.
If your supreme desire is to be read (I said "supreme" desire; anyone bothering to craft something wants to show it to the world), well, there's not many readers left here. So it can't be that.
I like to think the survivors here want something else. Some survivors here envision poetry as the highest form of expression, one uniquely conducive to creating . . . I'm not sure exactly, some kind of amalgam of politics, religion; something liberating - a sort of Blakean idea of poetry. This is a noble pursuit. Not mine, but noble nonetheless.
There are (were) others here for whom poetry is capable of transcendence, not in a religious (for the individual) or social or political sense (for the group), but a transcendence of the sort you see in the grandest pieces of human imaginative achievement, as in Shakespeare's Hamlet, or one of Mozart's sublime adagios from one of his great piano concertos. This type of poetry (art) absorbs the religious and political dimensions, transforms them like energy into what ultimately can only be called beauty. Of course, you cannot have an artistic triumph without those dimensions, like you can't have a magnificent horse without hay. But its supreme end and desire is a perfection that is aesthetic, which contains within itself all other perfections, political, social, religious - like the divine being we call God. That being simply identifies himself with being, I AM THAT I AM - and you know that is the perfect, complete definition. You are dealing with the heart of consciousness, profound and deep, defying any further elaboration but the fact of its own supreme existence.
Those who think thus of poetry (like myself) have found a home here, too. All other poetry sites (and I've checked out most of them) are alien to this conception of poetry. So I remain here, in this dwindled realm of dreams and alienated longings.
As a critiquer I end up looking for the same dreams and longing in other writers. When I see another poet whose poetry strives for the same type of thing I strive for, I hope that I can support that striving. The best I can do is tell someone when they've taken a step up on that heavenly ladder; give a push from behind. Or tell them that are not making progress up that ladder. And if they are on a different ladder, they will not give a damn about my comments, and, frankly, I won't give a damn about their poetry. As my critique is a waste of time to them, their poetry is a waste of time to me.
So here I am commenting on your poem. I don't know you very well. Think of this as a hello, a sounding. I'm taking to time to do it because I sense a reaching, a spirit that might be sympathetic to my vision of poetry.
I can't tell you if this poem is standing on "my" ladder or not. I know it's not yet on a high rung. If you want to get pissed off and tell me in response about all the wonderful effects you put into this poem, about how I'm missing things . . . you'd be right, but I'd say "so what?" I don't know a damn thing about music, can't read it or play an instrument, but when I listen to the second movement of, say, Mozart's 23rd piano concerto, I become angelic, I AM angelic. And I don't need to know a damn thing about the supreme musical craft of Mozart or how he put together that achievement.
Do you want to help this poor fellow mundane creature become angelic, or not?
That's what I DO want to know.
MSS
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