To Listen to Music While Reading this Poem, just Click Here!
Click Here To add this poem to your "Voting Possibilities" list!
On A Wing in the way a favored song reaches, now I, we, reach green is seen, then blue heavy now, we arrive down for a sip how green, again, slowly casting away without violence, I approach you emotion carries along between this and that graceful motion arches in flight the resting of another day I, on a curving wing's tip to the end now blue again, at instead, it's rightful place something new the low sound of slowly roiling rounds unheard to ear and yet so clear in kind so little to say and yet still, so many colors gray in sight like chimes in crystal, rhymes preserved in posterity by solar angels discrete gently retiring from view in abidance, I approach you unhurried clouds signal the pace thoughts fall into a swing wings dipped and curved merely half a beat mere truth below and behind one mere lifetime captured heartbeats erased reflections against encroaching beams of night across and beyond all this and up we bend this time space into a little death, from the time thing across and beyond body and mind across and beyond all, in a mere breath we ascend, free, in the tide at last, sing in silence, I approach you in rapture on a wing |
Additional Notes:
It was written in honor of a number of things:
- A sunset on Lake Washington, where, for the next two weeks, and the last 6 months, I have lived.
- Here on the West bank of Lake Washington, the same lake where Bill Gates lives, we have a constant presence of a great many crows. This poem is also to honor them.
- There is a place I believe abides in each of us where a deep lake or reservoir of melancholy lay, where a distance and it's simultaneous mourning of that same distance resides. It is to this deep feeling within me I also honor here. There is some joy in touching such a depth, as it seems one's fundamental capacity for "height" is echoed by it's vast depth, and thereby is a measure of it.
This poem is in the mood of, and was written listening to a number of moody, bluesy metal songs: Solar Angels by Judas Priest, Parabol, Parabola, Lateralus by Tool. Yes, I know I sound like a teenager.
This Poem was Critiqued By: Claus Michael Ranswill On Date: 2009-04-29 14:53:18
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Very chaotic and turbulent
This goes in lots of directions
Unique, different and colorful
Emotional, reflective and observational
Not sure how this can be improved,
Seems very personal and introspective