... first off, the picture fascinates me: it could be a parched desert under a gathering sky or coastal waters viewed from a beach with a hazy view of cliffs in the near-distance. And the poem strikes me as very cinematic - it gurgles! :)) I kinda see the "old man" as being seasoned and now quite mellow, with all of his created world around him, trawling through some teenage reminiscences and being suddenly startled by a flashback to the trauma, angst and paranoia of his former youth. Bringing the two together in this lightning-clash are "ripples of days gone past, sliding across hazy shores of experience and crystal clear cliffs of precarious revelation", and what impacts me here is that though experience may soften and become blurred, the clarity of received revelation remains like an epiphanic instant which can strike again at random. This poem perhaps pits impetuosity against stability in many ways and raises questions of "why do we feel lost and in what do we feel found?" It also made me think that birth is always a form of death to a child being born, and how alone that must feel. So much in this one, Jude, but I'll quite my babbling for now... xx
plaudits for the plausible makes the improbable a likely play-date somewhere out on that horizon... thanks for taking us all there. It's the getting back in one piece is what this little ditty leaves in doubt.
Nice photo ... a convergence of realities.
No matter what is happening around us, we keep
moving forward on this invisble river. Only now it seems
there is much more behind us than in front of us.
your gift is precious. Enjoyed.
The imagery...the verse...the photo...beautiful and haunting. My favorite lines, "he gestures to the darkness, like a feverish newborn
reaching for its mother." Jude, you've written this in such a quiet tone...yet its message comes through loud and clear. And I'm thinking, if not already, we will all be part of that vessel.
I see this as a central part of your Bio, whenever you do one!
A very special poem,Jude,please continue with it! The way you write, your bio could be awesome!
Jude this is one of your best, I could get lost in it, meander around for hours in all the shades of emotion and meaning, find myself watching, contemplating my own vessel.
"Vessel" a person considered a receptacle or agent of some quality. A craft, especially larger than a rowboat. A duct, canal, used for circulating body fluid.
So Many meanings for the title you have chosen. The way you wrote this poem, it can be taken in many ways. I wish I had read this last night before I went to bed, but I was not feeling well so I fell asleep on the couch and dove into bed when I stirred.
Needless to say, This poem has touched many areas within me. It is a very deeply moving piece of work. A reflection of a full life, and a contemplation of where that life is going. Perhaps, just letting the tides of time take it's course, would be the best answer.
One needs to reflect on their life, every now and again. Looking at the past as a learning journey, not dwell on the negative only take from it the positive, and then look at themselves at the moment, where they are at that very minute, and be thankful to be alive and healthy.
If there is a major concern, then one must do something about it.
Begin an action that will change your life, so that when you look back at this moment, you will be proud of yourself and see it as one of those positive moments of your life.
Here's to one hell of a poet and beautiful soul, Jude you Rock!
I wish you all the peace, love, and light the Universe can offer,
Amber "V"
Abandoned in the raging tides of life, the mind still wanting reaching dreaming still great thoughts, the old battered ship accepts its fade, a last grand gesture of defiance; a sad tale, much to often repeated in this day and age. Bless you! Jasmin Horst
Sherry is correct, there is absolute within the lines of this well-crafted piece of poetical work. I can't remember any poem I have ever read of yours that is better than this one. And it all has to do with that "clarity" and the fact that what you are contemplating is deep within your id, and it comes out with a scream even though the poem itself is smooth and relaxed. Stand. Clap-Clap. Take a bow.
I wonder why for some, there is a struggle between dreams and physical reality? For me, they are each enhancements formulated for the other. I can't help by see a little bit of you in this poem, Jude as these lines scream out to me.
"gesturing to the darkness, like a feverish newborn
reaching for its mother,
missing in the storm,
on an abandoned clipper to nowhere,
where his life once began,
conspiring to sink alone"
Excellent poem; free of criptic verses and speculative metafore. There is a clarity to your lines that pulls it all together for the reader.
Take care,
Sherry
Life as a vessel full of curious ans strange things, some understandable and some not, mythical mixed with mystical and there comes whimsical to rock that boat.
Vessel, are them build to be sunk?
Everything about this peddles itself as a Currier & Ives Lithograph, particularly the clipper ship and The Steamboat Lexington, a disaster print in Long Island Sound. In 1907 when Currier & Ives' firm was liquidated, most of the lithographic stones had the image removed and were sold by the pound with some stones final home as land fill in Central Park. Those few stones that managed to survive intact were of large folio Clipper Ships.
The success of Currier & Ives depended on Two, not alone, so Jude, it takes Two on the same wavelength to design dreams together. In 1857 Currier made Ives a full partner "because of his dedication and aiding him in selecting the images." I see this as a metaphor, "sending rays of his likeness" - like attracts like. The law of attraction...
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