After the close woven touch,
Thorn and velvet tongue-tapping
Spindrift night,
After the firm dovetailing of nerves,
Gunner, crack-shot, shell and ball
Bridging the half-way halves--
(Taking the moon by the teeth)
The seeded flesh
Masters the inhaling womb.
Bienvenue,
Galleries of manshaped boys
Kicking a bellyful of heels,
Roll, grasp, leap toward the burst light,
Tear through thickets of bent bone
And drowned dark, crush and wane
In the cruel sweet and endless forever,
And empty in the capsized bed.
Bienvenue,
The salt and watery boys
Riding the shipwrecked waves
Home.
(An old poem, written when I was young and easy, and under the spell of Dylan Thomas.)
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25 comments:
Hey. I thought it was Thursday. So I won't post it for another 24 hours. Okay?
Well done..early bird got this worm!
I love your poem, it has an easy rythm and pace. And I love all the neat words. :)
I'm getting death from this poem. Soldiers and death on the battlefield. Tricky to understand, Dylan Thomas is such a master... really enjoyed picking this one apart.
Pepek,
Been there!
You captured it well!
rel
Thanks for stopping by, I hope I didn't shock you too much.
Great poem, very dark and somber.
Rose
xo
It's a lovely poem, rich with imagery. And I like the use of the French "bienvenue."
What a great poem -- everyone should be young, easy, and under the spell of Dylan Thomas. :) I especially liked the galleries of manshaped boys and the thickets of bent bone. Great images!
War? Amazing images here Pepek. Well done!
I'm not sure what's going on here, but I love the words and phrases.
My PT is up.
I like the abstract and subtilty of the images you expressed.
I enjoy something that stretches my comprehension.
Actually, (shall I tell you?) this is about babies, well, boy babies, since that's all I had--conception, pregnancy, and birth. The gunner, crack-shot etc being, um, well, the one victorious sperm that cracks the egg, the kicking, rolling babies in their salt and watery...well, you aren't supposed to have to explain poetry. So that's all I have to say about that. To quote Forrest Gump.
I loved "Tear through thickets of bent bone
And drowned dark, crush and wane" but the whole thing was great.
Nice flow to it. Great imagery too. And home at the end of it. Works so well.
I loved Dylan Thomas too.
gautami
Parallel Streams
I was thinking war too, until I read your explanation. Now I need to go back and read it again (but I had already decided that it is a poem worth reading over a number of times - beautiful language and rhythms)
Now I've read it again, and it seems obvious :) Lovely! Especially "the salt and watery boys riding the shipwrecked waves home"
Ah, I kind of thought it was birth but then I read comments saying war and i thought war... It's interesting the different ways it can be read...
okay my friend - that parenthetical at the end should absolutely be your title! I love it so much "young and easy" also - I love the poem, old or no! Really wonderful images, and sounds - I have to say: all the PT-ers this time around are really working sound and I couldn't be happier!
I can see it now and I like it even better because I've been there done that :)
What a poem. Such great language. I want to copy almost every word onto my favorite word list. "Tear through thickets of bent bone/ And drowned dark" is a great line. "After the close woven touch" is also such a great opening line.
Thank you, every one. Loved having you all come by. :)
G'night.
I can hear the Dylan Thomas in this...lovely!
This is a phenomenally visiory poem. It picked me up and took me along and through the amazement of the whole process everyone of us experienced once upon a time before our eyes opened and we began the other journey.
What perfect imagery, and I thought it was about babies. That was my take but needed confermation to be sure.
I didn't put away my cape and tights, I'm not sure why you would think that. Never, never, and break up the dynamic duo?(I liked that) Not ever!
This is very Dylan-esque - the Welsh Dylan that is ... A tremendous poem with weight and language to die for. The photo goes so well with it - I can identify!
BTW the dream you wrote about - the red house one - could be this week's poetry submission. I loved that!
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