Disasters, Delights and Other Detours - 84. Cloudcover

I made a decision to never comment on poems because nothing I could say is as beautiful as the word art of poetry.   But this was my past week and it made me cry.  Thank you.  

10 minutes ago, 84Mags said:

I made a decision to never comment on poems because nothing I could say is as beautiful as the word art of poetry.   But this was my past week and it made me cry.  Thank you.  

You are most welcome. I am very grateful you chose to break your rule in this instance. We live in very trying times, and it is no surprise that we might seem bereft of words, and without the usual stars to guide us. Thank you.

Just now, Valkyrie said:

I agree with 84Mags.  You summed up this past week perfectly for me as well.   

Thank you for reading this, and for your thoughts.

12 minutes ago, Parker Owens said:

You are most welcome. I am very grateful you chose to break your rule in this instance. We live in very trying times, and it is no surprise that we might seem bereft of words, and without the usual stars to guide us. Thank you.

I guess ‘never say never’ is true.  But then I broke my rule one other time, also for you 😉, to comment your poem reminded me of Rick in Double Concerto.  Today’s offering eased an emotional burden.  It felt important to let you know that.  Again, I am grateful.  

11 minutes ago, 84Mags said:

I guess ‘never say never’ is true.  But then I broke my rule one other time, also for you 😉, to comment your poem reminded me of Rick in Double Concerto.  Today’s offering eased an emotional burden.  It felt important to let you know that.  Again, I am grateful.  

Poetry can help me unburden my day. I'm glad it may be the same for you.

I related to this as a poet, when there is so much turmoil inside my head that needs 'blood letting' for the sake of sanity, but the words refuse to come. For me, the sea was a metaphor for frustration that things don't work on our whim. What ever your meaning, I found angst and power in this. Cheers!

I love the idea of words performing a sarabande. Slow, stately, yet with an utterly distinctive rhythm. Nothing like as a slow as the news over the past week though. It's been impossible to focus on anything creative. And I don't even live in the US. 🤨  Interesting to see you abandoning form and meter. Worth repeating, to my mind. ☺️

Sometimes the words tumble out, one upon another. But these days they hide from me, and it’s frustrating. You’ve sussed out my meaning, for I cannot cross the uncertain sea of life without them to point the way. Thanks very much for reading this!

3 hours ago, Headstall said:

I related to this as a poet, when there is so much turmoil inside my head that needs 'blood letting' for the sake of sanity, but the words refuse to come. For me, the sea was a metaphor for frustration that things don't work on our whim. What ever your meaning, I found angst and power in this. Cheers!

Sometimes the words tumble out, one upon another. But these days they hide from me, and it’s frustrating. You’ve sussed out my meaning, for I cannot cross the uncertain sea of life without them to point the way. Thanks very much for reading this!

1 hour ago, northie said:

I love the idea of words performing a sarabande. Slow, stately, yet with an utterly distinctive rhythm. Nothing like as a slow as the news over the past week though. It's been impossible to focus on anything creative. And I don't even live in the US. 🤨  Interesting to see you abandoning form and meter. Worth repeating, to my mind. ☺️

This is about as focused as I have been able to manage these days. Given the clouds enveloping the world, it’s not surprising that the shining words in the firmament lie hidden from view. Glad you thought this un-formed and unmetered poem was worth a detour. Thanks for reading!

Like Gary I read this as a poet. One who has struggled with words when my muse remains silent ... at least you seem able to shake yours from deeper slumber into a form of somambulance coaxing some meaningful expression.

46 minutes ago, dughlas said:

Like Gary I read this as a poet. One who has struggled with words when my muse remains silent ... at least you seem able to shake yours from deeper slumber into a form of somambulance coaxing some meaningful expression.

I wish I could truly awaken my muse; I seem only able to rouse it sufficiently to grumble irritably and demand an additional blanket. Thank you very much for reading this, and for your thoughts. 

10 minutes ago, Parker Owens said:

I seem only able to rouse it sufficiently to grumble irritably and demand an additional blanket.

 I sympathise (and love your way of expressing it).

I think it's wonderful for you the express a feeling of not having the words to define the moment by painting so many striking pictures instead. :)

We all need more things to enjoy with our eyes right now,  and a lot less to assault our ears. Thanks!

1 hour ago, Geron Kees said:

I think it's wonderful for you the express a feeling of not having the words to define the moment by painting so many striking pictures instead. :)

We all need more things to enjoy with our eyes right now,  and a lot less to assault our ears. Thanks!

 

You're very kind in your comments. I agree, it's more important than ever to observe the world and take what joys in it that we can. I'm glad you liked this offering. Thank you.