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winter-songs — Life Cycle
by-nc-sa
Published: 2009-07-18 09:47:43 +0000 UTC; Views: 1696; Favourites: 12; Downloads: 11
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Description
I. Truthseers"Mortality" is a word
spoken soft in onerous rooms
over lips thick with chapstick
to smother
our truth.
Over a road twenty feet
deep a child soars
on creaking rusted flowers
and laughs
at us.
They know
those little grinners
as they spin plates on noses,
toes, and ears.
They know
our great lie
that we've masked in powder,
foundation, and rouge.
"Mortality" is a word
we've made dirty.
Yet it is all we have
for truth.
II. Danse Macabre
Camille Saint-Saëns knew what
he was talking about.
Or playing about.
I don't think he spoke much.
Zig zig, zig zig.
A violin shrieks across
the autumn night.
Or is it winter?
Chill cakes the window.
Crackle, crackle.
From ashy dust he rises.
And plays a single note.
An instrument of bones.
And strings of muscle sinew.
Among croaking trees they spin.
And leap in ghastly air.
Stone-heavy feet.
And branches for arms.
Death is playing for you.
Won't you listen?
Life is screaming for you.
Won't you listen?
III. End Days
Embers strive to glow
in this cold
this chill
pale, unable to warm.
Screeches easy to rise
in this day
this light
foretelling, to an awful end.
A couple embraces
amongst a tragedy.
Twisting, turning, olive steel.
And the people stare
leer, hungry for blood on the pavement.
Three blocks away
a crooked cross
is borne down Main Street.
Thrown in and sinks
beneath muddied green.
Things are shifting
now confess to what is.
Confront the truth of ultimatum
and live in ceasement of fear.
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Comments: 9
Wonderful. Maybe a bit confusing, but with your explanation in the artist's comments, I made some more sense out of it.
Anyone, one doesn't necessarily have to understand the subject of the poem to realize how well-written this is.
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I do love the Danse Macabre segment - the whole idea of bone-bowed violae (to quote myself, being what I do) is one that I really love in poetry, and the rest of this captures a sensation with great elegance.
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Your wonderful literary work has been chosen to be featured by DLD (Daily Literature Deviations) in a news article here: [link]
Be sure to check out the other artists featured and show your support by 
Keep writing and keep creating.
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I'm a little confused by the wording in the second stanza, "On a road twenty feet deep a child soars..."
The action of soaring, to me, clashes with "On" as I feel soaring is flight and it occurs over things. But, I imagine you don't want the image of the child high above the road.
And also the third stanza, "...they spink plates on noses, toes, and ears."
I can't possibly imagine what spinking plates is.
All of the rest of it, magnificent.
My favorite is part II. Especially the third stanza of it. I just love the imagery you create here, like a concert complete with dancing.
Are both the trees and something else dancing?
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Thank you for your input 8D
The spinking thing: ohai, typo.
I'm glad you liked it, I'll look at that stanza.
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