This Poem was Submitted By: Mell W. Morris On Date: 2004-11-17 10:20:49 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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The Texture of Blue

I prefer repair to prayer as religion still grapples with sin after all these centuries. I've read that many trade God for a sense of God but I want my blue true. The scent of laburnum and lilac on the breeze brings me repentance; add a briny, blue-eyed sea and I am inspired past mediocrity. The scene loses its outline which speaks of a touch divine. If my blue is too pallid for  you then lean back and enjoy the revelry of geese skywriting the ways of the world in blue: cerulean, lapis, and turquoise. Give me Vincent-blue of Starry Night and of Irises. No palette ever held blue as Vincent conjured but he always returned home, ruing the hue he could see but not reproduce on the canvas. Your blues have inspired our lives, dear Vincent, and I hope the divine allows you to see your truth from empyrean view.

Copyright © November 2004 Mell W. Morris


This Poem was Critiqued By: Wanda S. Thibodeaux On Date: 2004-12-07 00:47:56
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Dear Mell, I have been thinking about this poem for several days. It is mell-ve-lous. I love my blue true also. We have been inspired by Vincent-blue but there are many ways of seeing, even hearing the texture of blue. The blue mist that rises over the mountain tops, an exhalation of pale sapphire. My mom's soulful voice rendering Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain. The swell of an open road meeting a morning sky, dawn breaking. The Alabama River when the sun streaks it with silver blue waves. Blueberries just ripe for picking. Wild petunia's by the deck, lavender blue. I'm quite taken by your first stanza. I like the lead it gives this piece. It's really light-hearted and thought provoking. Of course, what would you expect from the color blue? Nothing but perfection- This probably got a nod from GOD. What blue really is- is me after reading this poem. Mell, you are most charming and all the colors of wonderful. Please be feeling better. Much love and good luck, Wanda


This Poem was Critiqued By: Elaine Marie Phalen On Date: 2004-12-06 09:46:10
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Mell, this isn't a critique. I just want to tell youI've read this, enjoyed it immensely, and it gets my vote over the "bird" piece (much as I loved that one, too). Your focus on the blueness embraces so many levels it's hrad to know where to begin. It's everything from sky to spirit to VanGogh's irises - which I'm not surprised to find here! In fact, it is both an exploration of the speaker's own world-view and a tribute to Vincent himself, who was certain he had failed in his efforts, whereas we know he was possessed of a vision far beyond others of his time (and many of our own). "Repair to prayer" - yes. God helps those who help themselves. If we ask and ask, without trying to improve our own situations, then we're not taking responsibility for whatever we've been allotted in this life. Healing can come from within as well as from outside sources. The blue color is associated with the throat area and its healing effects are very cooling and calming. Since poets use "voice" in their art, this would be an appropriate chakra for strengthening. It is also associated with self-knowledge (physician, heal thyself). "The revelry of geese skywriting the ways of the world" is magnificent! It comes from the same well as Vincent's own gift. Each shade of blue may suggest a separate individual. We're all in the mosaic (I'm teal, myself). S2 is in some ways my favoroite because of the olfactory elements. The alliteration adds further harmony to the lovely, sensory passage. The "briny, blue-eyed sea" is a familiar friend to me, also. The thing about lilacs is their brevity. Maybe we're most impelled to memorialize the transitory and fallible aspects of our universe. We capture them in our own ways because if we do not, they're lost forever. And though we may believe we, ourselves, will be lost, we don't know who might be remembering us. More people sent cards and showed up at my Mom's funeral than I would ever have expected. They hadn't kept in touch, necessarily, but she obviously had left an imprint on their lives. In our own cases, we can't possibily know how many, or whose, lives these are. The poem's closing wish is offered for Vincent's own benefit but we, too, can share in it. We must all learn to set aside regret and personal dissatisfaction, in favor of the broader outlook. The divine gift of persepctive should allow us to see ourselves as meaningful contributors to the order of all creation. It may be the "view from above", like the panorama shown to a newly-rising soul. We can't see it in our mortal bodies but we can anticipate it. All will be revealed in good time, right? Anyhow, this is a terrific poem. I'm glad to see that it's right up there! To an extent, final standings reflect the "weight" of individual supporters rather than the numbers of votes. Kind of like a presidential election ... popular vote may not win over electoral votes. But when you make it this far, I'm not so sure the numbers matter all that much. Know that we are enjoying this one and that it's being remembered as it touches its readers. That kind of suits its theme, I think. Brenda
This Poem was Critiqued By: Thomas Edward Wright On Date: 2004-12-03 13:44:44
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
I cannot due this justice. What moves - water - air - the feet across the floor - I am searching for a door. Into it I move. Blue room. No recliner. Nor vision. Me and sky blue you.
This Poem was Critiqued By: Paul R Lindenmeyer On Date: 2004-11-30 00:25:26
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Dear Mell, I love VanGogh, all shades of blue, and this wonderful tribute to a genius who is still a puzzlement to many. True genius has always been a mystery to the masses, but you have captured some of his essence with this piece. The opening stanza grabs the reader, and you imediately defend and protect your artist from the judgements of those blind to his spectacular talents. Your final stanza is a spendid tribute to Vincents' legacy. My best to you, Peace, Paul
This Poem was Critiqued By: Dellena Rovito On Date: 2004-11-27 18:11:20
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.78261
Mell, Hope your doing better health wise. I like this blue poem immensley. I feel as you, I see divinity in nature. I like the use of blue flowers.....and the smell divine. Some iris even have sweet odors. I like the way your stanaza's keep you moving along.... I'm interested in your rhyming placement. Does it matter where or when? what style poem is this? Do you count syllables at all. I would love to write as you....... Don't overtax yourself to answer. I loved your word and style. Recover you're needed! love dellena
This Poem was Critiqued By: Turner Lee Williams On Date: 2004-11-23 14:07:49
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Mell–As usual, no compromising or bitting of tongue from start to finish: a personal and terse rendering which ardently addresses scribe’s views/feelings on several subjects: a slant on religion; love/respect of nature’s flora/fowl/sky/large bodies of water; reverence for the color blue; praise/admiration for Van Gogh’s art affect on humanity/ humanities. This up-front poet has shown a propensity, for her craft, equal to that of mentioned artist: “No palette ever held blue as Vincent conjured but he always returned home, ruing the hue he could see but not reproduce on the canvas.” Such a kinship has moved this scribe to wish an ethereal reward for this producer of pure beauty: “Your blues have inspired our lives, dear Vincent, and I hope the divine allows you to see your truth from empyrean view.” The whole of this particular melting pot/compilation serves to redeem and motivate protagonist to Peak Experiences. No disrespect/offense intended, but unlike most of us here at TPL this poete does not dodge or water down controversial topics (I think it’s a being in the moment/true to self thing-smile). Of course some bits required a visit with Funk & Wagnal but I still enjoyed what I took away from your post; forgive the verbosity and hope I didn’t stray too far off your intended path. TLW
This Poem was Critiqued By: Rick Barnes On Date: 2004-11-19 10:23:32
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
My Dearest Lilac, My penchant for textures is richly enhanced by this work.Should I, knowing full well you won't believe me, tell you that your ability to look into and see through is unmatched by any author I have read of late. Do I have your full attention when I say to you that your embroidery of rhythm and rhyme is of the kind that may, just may, bring back to the fore the most beautiful aspect of the form we call poetry. Listen to this Mell, "I prefer repair to prayer as religion still grapples with sin after all these centuries. "I've read that many trade God for a sense of God but I want my blue true." These are not only eloquent examples of "word grace", these are quotable. I coninues through out, but I will not belabor the point or reduce the beauty of the work with pedandic surgery. Your work continues to thrive and push the horizon as I see it. If I had but one criticism it is this, I wanted one more verse. You leave my inner tactile senses in a state of desire. Rick
This Poem was Critiqued By: Tony P Spicuglia On Date: 2004-11-18 11:35:05
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.92308
Mell, you have caught me on several level in this extremely, to me, personal piece. Vincent Van Gogh, and the reasons one may/may not like his painting is a very personal trait. Starry Nights, although the most beloved/hated painting of his, is not my favorite except when I want to sit back and dream. It is stark in its simplicity, but boundless in its enthusiasm. For your verse, what immediatly jumped out at me was "religion still grapples with sin after all these centuries" - there is a certainty about your verse that makes inconsequenctial the trappings of religion, while at the same time comes to judge your personal struggle against that exacting standard, "which we all know is, relative to the religion and sect anointed". I'd rather repair than prayer, is an extremely powerful line that is not matched till the last stanza. The scent of laburnum and lilac on the breeze brings me repentance - I find in this piece the contradictions of redemption and sin, lilac sweet subtle scent that resonates, unlike jasmine which dominates, and "laburnum" another subtle scent that holds the secrets of poisen and death, and was, in fact used for that very purpose as an "acceptable" resource. And from the sweetness to the poisen, the scents bring you to repentance, an apt particular if blended. The blue-eyed sea seems to be a reference to the swirling nights of "starry nights", I feel though that the sky is more a metaphor for the passage of mankind throughout time, and your reference to learning from mediocrity, reiforces the evaluation of the moment, by comparison to that past. Your relationship to blue within the context of sin and redemption appears to challenge the notion that what appears within the "hue" is in reality the "nature" of the hue. Whether birds, minerals or precious stones, looking within the hall of Van Goghs dream land reveals more than the total of its parts. Most like Beethoven, what was created never redeemed what was inside, that was the nature of the search. Mell, this piece leaves me with your last, most powerful line, "truth from empyrean view" which at first seems to reflect his present status, as one who has passed beyond to the "paradise" always sought, but moreso for me is the reflection of everything I do in creation, that drives me, the veiw is from that point, and like Dante, somehow the result never seems to approach the charector of the attempt. A wonderfully personal, and philosophical piece.
This Poem was Critiqued By: marilyn terwilleger On Date: 2004-11-17 15:33:13
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Hi Mell, This is a moving piece full of wonderful phrases with an abundance of the many hues of blue....'I prefer repair to prayer'...this is an amazing line and very logical, when you stop to think about it...which I have. What is prayer if it is not meant to heal our souls, minds, and bodies. We must be repaired internally if we are to exist. ...scent of laburnum (I wish I had thought of this word) and lilac..as I drink in the words I can almost smell such a fragrant aroma...even tho I sit at a computer with no living flowers around me....'add a briny, blue-eyed sea and I am inspired by past mediocrity'.. great rhyme with sea/mediocrity, something you rarely grace us with....'geese skywriting the ways of the world in blue'...the notion of geese skywriting is so pleasing to me as geese are such a common sight here....cerulean, lapis, and turquoise...I am sure Van Gogh would certainly approve of these lovely words and perhaps if you had of whispered them to him he could have limned his canvass with their glorious colors...'give me Vincent-blue of starry night'...one of my favorite songs...starry starry night...my guess is you like it, as well!....'but he always retured home ruing the hue (another rhyme!) he could see but not reproduce on canvass...'I hope the Devine allows you to see your truth from empyrean view.' What a lovely way to end this poem...the entire piece leaves me with a sense of calm and forces me to reflect on the things I would have done if only I could. The topsy-turvy world in which we live would do well to look back into the past and see the gentle things, the pictoral things, that make up the by-gone and strive to duplicate such simplicity and try (even just once) to stop killing each other. You continue to teach me every time you write a poem, such as this, and I will continue to absorb all which you give to me. I posted a poem called The Cabin a couple of weeks ago and I hope it makes its way to the top of your list before the month is out. Not that it is such an award winning poem but is a little different than most and I would like you to read it. Be well my friend and may all your days be Vincent-blue. Blessings...Marilyn
This Poem was Critiqued By: Joanne M Uppendahl On Date: 2004-11-17 13:02:24
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Dear Mell-O-Blue: I am infused with a 'blue' feeling, --not an emotional low, but celebration of the essence of blue, as I read your poem. My first thought was of the supercomputer, Deep Blue, who defeated the Russian chessmaster Kasparov. Blue, playing with white pieces, captured Kasparov's queen in exchange for a rook and a bishop -- and the position proved hopeless for the human. I know that artificial intelligence which has been designed by humans seems a far stretch from the theme of your poem. Possibly, the analogy is this: uninspired religions which have been designed by humans are not the same as encounters with the divine. The Divine spirit Who lives in the universe, and within humanity, is not altered by philosophies nor religions, nor any human-designed limitations. I do believe that there are many 'inspired' kinds of worship. I do not feel that I am qualified to say which ones are 'correct' or 'incorrect' but follow my own heart. Your poem reaches past preconceptions and programs, dogma and regulations to vital spiritual experience -- "blue true" vs "a sense of God." You "prefer repair to prayer"! Is it possible that living mindfully is 'prayer'? I can't shake the image of a boot or shoe on a last, in a shoe repair shop, having its 'sole' mended; 'reformed' footwear, if you will. The shoe itself has a somewhat limited life, but can be repaired, after a fashion, so that the wearer may walk in it for as long as possible. The body we inhabit is frangible, and will need mending in order to last us for the duration of our habitation. The soul within is already perfect. And things work best when the soul and the body are 're-paired' -- that is, in harmony with one another. All of these thoughts and more were elicited by this thoughtful work. I will reflect all day on "repair" as you've used it here. I also wonder if 're-pair' alludes to 're-pairing' with the Creator, as if no separation had taken place. What would this be like? In our reconciliation, would be see colors in a way that is not possible with our present dim vision? Would we taste and hear and BE colors? Then, as the title implies with the word "texture", the poem infuses us with scent as well as color. In 'repentance' do we feel sorrow, or do we turn, seeing and thinking about things differently? For the speaker, "laburnum/lilac/briny, blue-eyed sea" inspire and transcend the ordinary ("mediocrity") so that our guide/speaker invites the reader to celebrate life rather than renounce it. "The scene loses its outline which speaks of a touch divine." When we release preconceptions and surrender to the gifts which the Creator has given us, we sense the "touch divine" and are remade -- 'repaired' if you will, with the Creator. Having received the touch, we are changed. We have not changed ourselves by repeating a formula, but have been re-opened through our sense of the presence of the divine in all of nature. It is the "touch divine" which madness all other experience redundant or superfluous. Sometimes, as with Van Gogh or William Blake, it seems to confer madness. But would they, or any others so touched, trade that "touch divine" for a comfortable, predictable life? The speaker challenges the reader to turn away from the poem to observe what her vision reveals: the ecstasy of "geese skywriting" and the sublime colors of "cerulean, lapis, and turquoise." You advise the reader to "lean back and enjoy" what may have been overlooked -- the miraculous, wondrous creation. The precious stones, to many peoples, of lapis and turquoise. The deep blue (Deep Blue) of cerulean. When the sky is darkening towards night, or lightening towards day. Those moments of transition during the daily cycles of the luminaries. Be aware, once more, you seem to urge, that you are on a planet spinning in space, surrounded by stars, and nearly blinded by manufactured light and distractions, I add. Give me Vincent-blue of Starry Night and of Irises. No palette ever held blue as Vincent conjured but he always returned home, ruing the hue he could see but not reproduce on the canvas. This is the visionary Mell-O, who inspires me not only to 'see' but to become the vision. A reminder that we cannot capture in the ineffable, even as Vincent found that "No palette ever held blue/as Vincent conjured" but he did not relinquish his vision. We must hold fast to our vision, be true to it, though we will likely never successfully translate it to a visual or verbal facsimile of our inner knowing. "Starry Night" and "Irises" hold special meanings for me, as I know they do for you. "Your/blues have inspired our lives, dear Vincent,/and I hope the divine allows you to see your/truth from empyrean view." That Vincent resides now in the 'highest heaven' and continues his painting is also my hope. This hope is what I base my life upon: that those whom we have loved, and who have inspired us, will continue to be a part of the whole living, breathing, loving universe, of which we, too, are an inseparable part. For the short term, we are lonelier for having witnessed Vincent's vision of blue, his truth. A taste of the divine. But we are also less lonely because his truth speaks to us of what we lack or desire or seek, as visionaries ourselves. Your poem moves me for so many reasons -- and among them, the awareness that my son was like Vincent, bipolar. And "rueing the hue he could see but not reproduce" on the canvas of his life. He sensed a truth which he could not find in the world. Starry, Starry Night. There aren't enough superlatives or metaphors I can use to communicate my response to this poem, Mell. You speak to the innermost parts of my soul. As the truly brilliant writer you are, you allowed these words to move through you and reach out to us, whose souls are deeply in need of 're-pair' with the divine. Thank you for this and so much more that I cannot find the words to express the depth of my gratitude for *you* and the hope you give. Brava! (to the truly brave one) Starry nights and lilacs (to one who gives them) Awed, once more Joanne
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