This Poem was Submitted By: Mell W. Morris On Date: 2004-09-16 13:33:21 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!To Listen to Music While Reading this Poem, just Click Here!
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Deep In My Heart Is A Song
Rivulets gurgle insouciantly, following
The course of gravity. Gifts given freely
For our use and for me, a time of an
Accelerated inspiration.
The stream plays over pebbles in its bed,
Eddies around stones and rocks, and
Expands in places where it roils with
A whispery sigh. I breathe deeply
And say, "This is it! This is my place
Where I feel rooted and where I'll
Live and die." A medulary moment, close
To the bone, a luminous event to dispel
The lassitude and languor I've lazily
Allowed to accumulate. I tire of living
Like a tumbleweed, blown here and yon
At the wind's whimsy or the will of others.
It takes determination to root this ashy-blue
Weed and soon I have a surround of feathery
Blue blending with the lavender hue of my
Lilac saplings. The people here welcome all
Who come with pure heart and no ploy to
Destroy the land. I feel flooded with peace
And grace like the stream which brought me
Here. Rivulets, freshets, all waters bring
Me to my knees in a prayerful attitude
With a song of gratitude
That at last, at last,
I belong! |
|
Copyright © September 2004 Mell W. Morris
This Poem was Critiqued By: Elaine Marie Phalen On Date: 2004-10-04 21:17:06
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.91667
Mell, this one isn't on my list but I have to comment nonetheless. You sculpt language like a tangible art form, and then color it according to its shape and texture. Your characteristic internal rhyme is nowhere finer than in this piece. There is a hopping-back-and-forth energy to the cadenced stanzas, nicely augmented by enjambment, which leads to the "accelerated inspiration" that you describe in S1, and which is most obvious when the poem is spoken. You write, I think, to be read orally, not pinned to a page. In that sense, your poems are like Shakespearean drama, wonderful when quietly studied but even more splendid when translated into sound.
A medulary moment, close
To the bone, a luminous event to dispel
The lassitude and languor I've lazily
Allowed to accumulate.
This speaks of a journey intended, perhaps not yet begun but near at hand, as the speaker is moved to change her position and embark on her spiritual quest. Inertia's a killer, isn't it? We have such trouble shaking ourselves into full awareness! On the other hand, we must also guard against the sort of rootless wandering that never allows us to rest or feel content.
It takes determination to root this ashy-blue
Weed and soon I have a surround of feathery
Blue blending with the lavender hue of my
Lilac saplings.
These are exquisite visuals. I think for some odd reason of VanGogh's irises, an "ashy-blue/bleed" of a painting. Your color choices betoken peace and inner sight - blue for the intellect, purple for the soul. These hues appear self-generated, as if the speaker is in charge of her own portrait and can craft the setting it most needs. Yet this is also a translation into the purest form, the body of light which offers both freedom and joy.
I feel flooded with peace
And grace like the stream which brought me
Here. Rivulets, freshets, all waters bring
Me to my knees in a prayerful attitude
Here is the union with divinity, and the gift of grace is offered to all who dwell herein. Is this a Heaven, or some earthly realm where all are welcomed and accepted? The cleansing effect of the water restates the theme of S1. Regardless of one's sorrows and burdens, there is purifcation available through spiritual insight. In the end, "belonging" is everyone's desire, I think, whether it be within the kingdom of God, or as a part of the natural universe. I note that you bring no religious tenets into this poem, so it is relevant to all readers. I tend to believe that everyone who reads and creates poetry is, in fact, a seeker of enlightenment. Language, in all its beauty, is one way to achieve this, as you are doing with your writing and describing in this poem.
One other absolutely cool thing is the title itself, which is also a line from the Sons of the Pioneers' classic, "Drifting along with the Tumbling Tumbleweed". I love that song! Considering the direct referemce to a tumbleweed in S4, I'm sure this is a deliberate link. The SOP's song speaks of a "new world" that will be born with dawn, much as the speaker of this poem is envisioning.
Kudos to you, Mell. This is fine, fine work.
Brenda
This Poem was Critiqued By: Gerard A Geiger On Date: 2004-10-04 16:59:43
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.76471
Dear Mell;
What a wonderful mellifluous helping of
Ms. Morris' literary talents in this
ode to the cyclic nature of the fluidity
which engulfs life. The stream here I believe
represents your astute conciousness....enquiring,
searching,endlessly seeking fulfillment....rolling over
pebbles of knowledge and experience...as the universal solvent,
water can dilute,be absorbed,and caress with a light
cool,slippery touch which can be felt, but not grasped.
So, with your enquiring life, it can be experienced, in fleeting
moments, remembered and enjoyed, but never nailed down
and rooted for a full dissection. Your peace with your psyche
is understanding through finally gaining acceptance of the
whole experience without trying to separate all the
various strands of music in this symphony of life.
In your closing you aptly state:
I feel flooded with peace
And grace like the stream which brought me
Here. Rivulets, freshets, all waters bring
Me to my knees in a prayerful attitude
With a song of gratitude
That at last, at last,
I belong!
You definitely belong Mell, you RULE...
wonderful work...
Always your Fan..
Gerard
This Poem was Critiqued By: marilyn terwilleger On Date: 2004-09-21 16:57:45
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.68750
Dear Mell,
I have been worried about you...the link is somehow quiet without your voice...so I
decided to look for a poem from you and found this one, last on my list. I have been out
of town so if it ever was first I missed it. The first time I read this magnificent
writing I was left with a 'sinking feeling' in my gut and a lump in my throat. Somehow
your words sound like a resignation..a giving up and I don't want that for you. The poem
itself is so wonderful that I feel ill equipped to even comment on it. The words flow
along, blending with each other just like they have always been there but only you could
give them life and meaning....'expands in places where it roils with a whispery sigh..I
breath deeply and say "this is it" this is my place where I feel rooted and where I will
live and die.' This is the line that socked me as I immediately placed you in your bed and
I suddenly felt your anguish. I e-mailed you before I left town and told you to get up out
of bed and write a poem....is this it? I just wish I could transport myself to you right
now so I could give you a hug and tell you "this too will pass."...'a medulary moment close
to the bone'...wonderful line...'the lassitude and langour I have lazily allowed to accumulate'
Don't do this anymore!! Forgive me if I am reading more into your words than is your
intent but this is how they make me feel...I guess I just want you up and about..tinkering
with my work and pushing me along making me perform better than the poem before....'the
people here welcome all people who come with pure heart with no ploy to destroy the land'..I
really have tears in my eyes now.....'at last, at last I belong! I wish I could comment on
every word but I just can't..the feeling of sorrow overwhelms me now. I will have a fit if
this does not win first place this month. I think I asked you, in my e-mail, to read my
poem titled "listen for the shout" and also another one (I think I wrote it this month)..
"undaunted soul"...I know you are not critiquing very much and I don't want you to crit
these two poems...just read them. Be well my friend...I miss you.
God Bless...Marilyn
This Poem was Critiqued By: Turner Lee Williams On Date: 2004-09-21 14:18:47
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.93333
Mell–A poem of address, IMO, and totally redeeming. I initially felt this from the
first strophe (“...a time of an accelerated inspiration.”) and believe speaker aligns
herself with stream (analogously) depicted in 2nd stanza and enjambing the 3rd (“I
breathe deeply and say, ...”). This “waiting to exhale” moment is also the epiphany
that indicates what’s gone on before (the entire 4th stanza: rolling with the punches;
complaining of low blows; but not fighting back; maybe some why me?/a little self
pity, etc...).
The twist/turn in stanza #5: take charge/control/responsibility of own life. I love the
metaphor “ashy-blue weed” (blond-eyed hard case) for this avid gardener/nature lover/
poetess as she relates (enjambing) from 5th stanza through the 6th stanza and remaining
lines a complitaion of her jubilation, thanksgiving, arrival, and acceptance at this
juncture. Thanks for the vivid imagery-all my senses have been sated-for now. TLW
This Poem was Critiqued By: Rick Barnes On Date: 2004-09-19 14:43:01
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Mell,
MAN O MAN! Are you and Joanne, (both being poetically hip), tied at the poetic hip? Both of you have gone through so much, together - apart. Yet you keep your grace about you.
You find in the very flow of things, (the stream), inspiration and the peace that must be what home means. This place where you feel rooted. This reminder amid the weariness that there is a gravity that pulls forward and upward as well as downward. That determination is both effort, in the finding, and effortless once we find our gravity.
You are an inspiration. I know you don't think of yourself in such terms, brilliant people rarely do. I have not, and perhaps may never find this peace that you and Joanne have been graced with. But it is important that I know someone has. That alone is comforting in the real sense of the word. Thanks for a moment of comfort.
Rick
This Poem was Critiqued By: Wanda S. Thibodeaux On Date: 2004-09-19 11:18:38
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.87500
Dear Mell,
This is musical, like the flow of lovely blue waters, crystal in sunlight, we hear it,
see it, and rejoice in it. I live seven miles from the banks of the Mississippi which
runs through Baton Rouge. This is not my favorite state, I love the mountains, but
I have never been able to express what I feel when I stand looking into that river. This
poem comes close. "The people here welcome all who come with pure heart and no ploy to
destroy the land. I feel flooded with peace and grace like the stream which brought me."
This ends like the marvelous song it is, the realization of a "medullary moment" truly
"close to the bone." It is triumphant, a winner in spiritual awareness. When these
moments happen to me, I always feel I have come to know myself better.
Best of luck this month.
This made me feel good!
Always,
Wanda
This Poem was Critiqued By: Paul R Lindenmeyer On Date: 2004-09-16 22:01:55
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Mell,
finding touchstones and common ground are always such wonderous moments. Clarity of being connected
to all others spirits is so calming and ethereal. Its what I see and feel from this piece. I love
"a medulary moment". The assonance of the g's in stanza 1, p's in stanza 2, l's abound in 3 and 4, with
b's and t's finishing off "at last." I enjoyed it entirely. Keep up the calming work. The world needs
more people rooted in and "flooded with peace and grace".
My best to you, Peace, Paul Lindenmeyer
This Poem was Critiqued By: James Edward Schanne On Date: 2004-09-16 16:28:11
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.10345
A place to call home is important to all living things I would think, And sing to in praise when finding it is grand. Thanks for letting me read and comment.
This Poem was Critiqued By: Patricia Gibson-Williams On Date: 2004-09-16 15:14:24
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Sounds like heaven. Utter peace and contentment a feeling of I am here, where I’m supposed to be and I belong. Isn’t that what most of are searching for? We feel displaced in our world, lost and alone… Your words gave me a feeling of coming home and feeling blessed, and settled. At peace inside and out. Great alliterations, I loved the way the words just seemed to dance upon my tongue. You wove them together with such a beautiful meter that it seemed a song; no a hymn, praising God for the blessing he had given you. And the ending lines, only make me feel this more strongly, as if you can’t contain your Joy and shout out:
“That at last, at last,
I belong! “
And the ending is perfect.
I loved this, and will come back and read it again. I hesitate to make any comments about changing this in any way. But (by the way I learned two new words) when I looked up medulary at dictionary.com they spelled it with 2 l’s medullary, and I liked the way you used it here, without the comment about bones I would have wondered if it was truly the word you wanted, but I felt that it was perfect for your poem. The other is very minor and pertains to the line “here and yon” I just so wanted to make here hither. It seems silly and I don’t know exactly why it struck me as odd that way, but I figured I’d mention it.
Thank you for sharing. Patti
This Poem was Critiqued By: Joanne M Uppendahl On Date: 2004-09-16 15:00:30
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Dear Mell:
Where did this swift, insouciant, edifying, whispery, medulary, luminous,
pure-hearted refreshment come from? No one else, no one else but you
could have produced this pure Mell-O happiness. The element of water
is so *you* and the poem is so *you*--impossible to anticipate,
with more than enough spirit to invigorate--"accelerated inspiration"!
Only you, as RB might say! There is life beyond the rampant rumors
of site setbacks, of illness debilitating, of my own seasonal descent,
of even the inevitable vulnerability to "the course of gravity" and
the effects of time. You transcend them all here, and make me glad
I persisted into this day, to behold this new creation of yours.
Your playful "gurgle" which does so "insouciantly" though susceptible
to "the course of gravity" but which you give us as a "gift(s) given
freely" makes my heart sing! Referring back to the poem's title,
you play your song so that it is deep within our hearts, too, as
readers, as friends and colleagues. You share your song, with a
"pure heart" which ignites my own. I defy readers to spend
time with you in this poem and emerge unchanged!
"plays over pebbles in its bed" -- plosives enliven and energized by
you give me a sense that I have stumbled back into my childhood or
on a flower-strewn day of my hopeful youth, to rediscover the joy
that still awaits.
"Eddies around stones and rocks" -- the stone that is our hearts at
times of discouragement, the rocks which are our barriers to step
into the living stream which is life. But rocks are also symbols
of strength, permanence, and solidity. You let us feel a deep
connection here, with the natural forces which play outside of
us and the spiritual ones which play within -- the keynote
being "play" -- how happy I am!
Expands in places where it roils with
A whispery sigh. I breathe deeply ---WONDERFUL!
And say, "This is it! This is my place
Where I feel rooted and where I'll
Live and die." A medulary moment, close --"pith of a plant" or our own medulla oblagata!
To the bone, a luminous event to dispel
The lassitude and languor I've lazily
--these liquid l's melt and flow around former obstacles, the "stones and rocks" perhaps
Allowed to accumulate. I tire of living
Like a tumbleweed, blown here and yon
At the "wind's whimsy" or the "will" of others. ---lovely, lovely
It takes determination to root this ashy-blue
Weed and soon I have a surround of feathery --exquisitely limned sound/color
Blue blending with the lavender hue of my --reference to "Lavender Luminance"?
Lilac saplings. The people here welcome all
Who come with pure heart and no ploy to ("ploy/destroy" --deftly limned 'enemies' of the past)
Destroy the land. I feel flooded with peace --and extend it here to us
And grace like the stream which brought me
Here. Rivulets, freshets, all waters bring
Me to my knees in a prayerful attitude
With a song of gratitude
That at last, at last,
I belong!
Deserves more than I can think of in terms of superlatives, as it brings me
shivers of recognition and a tintabulation of joy. The repeated "at last, at last"
are an anthem of celebration, in which the speaker has realized that she has
'come home' and belongs beyond any doubt -- borne along on waters, enlivened
with deep breaths (inspiration) to share her sense of "peace and grace"
which makes my own soul respond with its responsive song.
Magnificent in all possible ways! Ease for our aching hearts, graciously given.
Brava, my friend, and a hand-blown Chihuly seaform sculpture filled with riverstones
extended with a belated birthday verse enclosed.
With love and congratulations,
Joanne
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