When the sky strikes clouded hour
it should be sleep which you devour–
ancient rites
to lay your sights
upon the treasures of your birth;
shaded, still, but gold by mirth
a notion-thought, a nation-state
set upon the starry plate
lips consume by golden ticks
of time, of hearts, of callous pricks
(of soul, you dirty mind)
that in their feasting bind
further dawn, further hope
and leave the starving poets to elope
with museless musings
by economic typings–
which is to say, by morning I am weeping
for all the pains that you’re still keeping.
it takes an aware heart to feel the pains that others are still keeping…the feeling of those last couple lines is accentuated by the humorous address to the reader…nice device sir….have a great holiday….
No matter how much they try to hide it, we will know, and our hearts will shudder out in sympathy and lament for the pain that they have known… Thanks, Bri.
Very effective use of imagery weaving through this set of couplets. Enjoyed the word play as well. Always good to read your work. Wishing you the happiest of holiday seasons, Chris.
It’s very strange. I’ve been doing so much rhyming of late. I tend toward the freeverse; this is decidedly unlike me. I blame the influence of certain poetic friends. And a happy holiday season to you too, Gay!
Very nice. I really like the imagery in this piece.
Beautiful rhyme scheme used 🙂
Tis early for my brain to operate on full power so I (with clouded thought) am a little confused with the poems meaning.
I do think Brian’s interpretation is correct and in that case would agree that your humour adds to a fine write.
Yours sleepily
Anna :o]
It is seeing friends face a wall of clouds instead of golden horizons; watching them have skills and hopes and dreams and faced with grim reality. Watching poets turn to other fields to scratch out a living; watching hope falter, fade, and trying to let those around you know you see, you care, you empathize, and resolute as they may be, your sympathy remains.
Don’t worry, i know how an early morning can impact. Glad you enjoyed my attempt at humor in its midst still, though!
“shaded, still, but gold by mirth” loved the power in this line
Nature finds a way to make our words exalt…