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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Disasters, Delights and Other Detours - 44. Two Blue Poems

These were penned in a blue, February frame of mind. My thanks go to @AC Benus
for his kindness in helping to improve them.

One.

 

Would you be hurt if I were gone,

my spirit fled before the dawn

without a forwarding address,

my life a brief phenomenon?

 

I would not leave you in distress,

ungrateful for your tenderness,

yet if you sigh and turn the page,

I could not love you any less.

 

Mortality, at any stage,

makes some to weep and others rage,

but I seem otherwise inclined

to contemplate the end of age.

 

I know this falls to humankind,

and to my fate am I resigned;

I beg that you will carry on

when I am dust and out of mind.


 

Two.

 

Across the harbor, down the sun,

must race the swiftly ebbing tide

with mainsail sheeted tall and wide

to catch the breeze ere day is done.

 

As toward the darkling seas we glide,

I raise my hand in fond adieu

to songs and seasons I once knew

before the streams and rivers died.

 

Embarked aboard with trusty crew,

the far horizons hence I chart

while from these green shores I depart,

no more to walk in morning dew.

 

Though joy and yearning tie the heart,

I can no longer tarry here,

where once I learned to laugh and fear

and love with all my utmost art.

 

Tonight my every debt will clear

while ‘neath the stars I meet the wave

from which no angel wings can save,

nor to an island cove can steer.

 

And though my shipmates think I rave,

I see within the heavens high

those bright, beloved faces nigh,

their features gentle, fond and brave.

 

Thus may I sail till morning sky

and glassy ocean all are one,

where every tide has ceased to run

and I beneath still waters lie.

I thank you for reading these, and for any comments or critiques you may want to leave.
Copyright © 2017 Parker Owens; All Rights Reserved.
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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

Parker Owens
22 minutes ago, Lyssa said:

Two very profound poems. Both hold thoughts, which touch me and to which I feel connected to. The plea of the loved person being able to carry on with life is so loving. And the ocean / sailing/ water motives of the second are wonderful.

Thank you for sharing.

 

I’m very grateful you read these; still more for your comments. I’m very glad some of the images resonated with you. 

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Headstall

Yeah, these are February kind of poems... I relate to both. The first is more straightforward, and it has much appeal for me. This kind of contemplation is part of life.

I took two to be metaphoric, and I see much common ground between the two poems. Both made me ponder... it's nice to know you and I have common ground too, on the short and dark days of February. As always, well done, Parker... cheers... Gary....

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Parker Owens
7 minutes ago, Headstall said:

Yeah, these are February kind of poems... I relate to both. The first is more straightforward, and it has much appeal for me. This kind of contemplation is part of life.

I took two to be metaphoric, and I see much common ground between the two poems. Both made me ponder... it's nice to know you and I have common ground too, on the short and dark days of February. As always, well done, Parker... cheers... Gary....

 

Thank you, Gary for reading these. February in our part of the world can make anyone blue. They sing a song that does not see the light that’s coming. March is a much more hopeful month...

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Parker Owens
6 hours ago, Geron Kees said:

Two very thoughtful verses. Different in nature, but kind of the same in focus. Both seem to be contemplating an end of some sort. 

 

I thought them very well done. But I also think you might benefit from a nice dose of spring weather! :)

 

 

 

 

A good friend of mine always counseled: “never make any major life decisions in February.” Given the gloom, it’s good advice. Thanks so much for reading these, and for your thoughts. 

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AC Benus

I know it's part of the seasonal pull to reflection, but the first blue poem seems to be on a theme you need not worry about. There are plenty who will have counted their life invariably richer for having had you in it. You can count me for one. 

 

I'm struck by the beauty of these two lines: 

 

Mortality, at any stage, 

makes some to weep and others rage

 

For the second one, you have chosen an Elegy form. In a perverse way, this makes me smile. A blue poem, so you chose a blue format, and I think having worked through the poetry prompt placed this form in your poet's toolbox. For that I am grateful, as I think this mourning poem really works. Reading this, I can see how this form can become addictive a la Tennyson, and that is high praise indeed. 

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Parker Owens
9 hours ago, AC Benus said:

I know it's part of the seasonal pull to reflection, but the first blue poem seems to be on a theme you need not worry about. There are plenty who will have counted their life invariably richer for having had you in it. You can count me for one. 

 

I'm struck by the beauty of these two lines: 

 

Mortality, at any stage, 

makes some to weep and others rage

 

For the second one, you have chosen an Elegy form. In a perverse way, this makes me smile. A blue poem, so you chose a blue format, and I think having worked through the poetry prompt placed this form in your poet's toolbox. For that I am grateful, as I think this mourning poem really works. Reading this, I can see how this form can become addictive a la Tennyson, and that is high praise indeed. 

 

I’m deeply grateful for the inspiration and help that flows from your pen. The elegy form came naturally to these thoughts, and that’s attributable to what you have given us all. The form is indeed addictive, inviting more and fuller narrative, if one wants. As for the first of these poems, I’m glad the mood did not linger. Yet that kind you quoted was wonderfully serendipitous, occurring to mind during a study hall, of all places. Thank you so much for your kind and very generous response. 

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