For eons, I was a victim of your whims:
Always worshipping the earth
Beneath your feet
Glowing in the frost,
The moon reflecting in each wild footprint
Your scent
Circulating through my nostrils
The gravity of your presence
Blurring my vision
Like a wild animal
I was compelled to follow
The aroma of your influence
Yet in time, I became like a deer
Hiding in the bushes
Attempting to camouflage
The pattern of my hide
From the beast you often revealed
From the fangs of your pathos
Demanding my assiduity
When you became hungry,
Your heart thirsted
For the blood of my dreams
A bloody good one, and you've many dreams to thirst after.
Bye the bye,... the other night I awoke to a ripping sound of lightning tearing the fabric of the night and kept thinking shards of light--hence this week's poem.
Ron
Reviewed by Kate Clifford (Reader)
Reviewed on April 21, 2006
Love the symbolizm you used within in this descriptive insightful write.
When we allow another to take charge of our life we lose all sense of self and we shrink beneath their shadow, believing that they have a rightful position where we have placed them. As they try to suck the last bit of fight from our soul, the strong will come to understand that they have a force of their own and that the personal strength that we possess is still within us. Standing up and taking back what is ours is incredibly empowering.
Take care,
Sherry
Blood of My Dreams is the problems that so often immobilizes so many. Some are able to surmount barriers, unsurmountable to others. Healthy individuals have insight into themselves and they recognize what others are trying to do to them. Fully functioning poem, Jude.
Sage
Reviewed by Crystal Silver Angel (Reader)
Reviewed on April 20, 2006
As usual, Robert you totaly take the reader into your world with the most powerful spiritual energy imagery and real human bliss that's electric..
Wow! If I could whistle, I would...
Your poetry has touched me with its
strength and sweet dawning
comprehension..."Blood of my Dreams" is
a powerful write...
Amy Ramdass
Glad to see that you're still writing your wonderful poetry.
Are you still in Hawaii? Or did you return to NYC?
I'm in the Bronx myself these days.
Cool poem... as always.
Perhaps I'm wrong, but I see this as an internal struggle and your finally getting a hold on the beast within. This is our greatest battle, and always a joy to win some skirmishes with it, even though the war continues...outstanding work!
out from the shadow of the beast, what will you discover next, Jude? fascinating mix of metaphor, psychology and passionate poetry and strong, start to finish. Dawn
Intriquing metaphors and vivid sacred images, recalls a Meatloaf song I used to like that has a line that went: "Well you offer your throat to the wolf that brays in the moonlight..."
Blimey!! This totally FASCINATES me... so much where I'm coming from at the moment and it would appear that personal pain surfacing in our private worlds brings out the tones of tragic hero/heroine in the ways that we write at such times. I ALWAYS feel the grandiose of the Shakespearian on your page at any rate... Funny, I have just been nattering to Turner about eating placenta: this kind of stirs the same feelings in me - shock/horror, the craving and the bloodlust, somehow. And the energy from all the questions it begs I could be high on for days... Is there awe or disdain in your voice? Pain or helpless longing? Unmasking of truth that leads to greater knowledge and understanding, or the desire to run for cover deeper and further away? And "the beast"? Self or other? You got me hooked any way... and is your subject callously aware and deliberate of the effects on "you" or totally ignorant - as if, indeed, unaware of being purely observed from a distance? Just frustrated I haven't the time to sit and work all this out - you know my need to problem-solve! :)) Gasping for poetic air in my lungs but the wheels of life are heavy and hard-pressing. Love these your dense, jungle metaphors that are so deceptively luminous, clear and sparse in their writing. Am working on a flies and fleas ditty of my own so guess am at least colouring on a similar canvas! This stirs me with a passion... now where's me knife and fork...!! :)) Kannibal Kate xx
A further collection of poems, many from years in the Middle East, but also the California San Francisco and Central Coast areas (Santa Cruz, Carmel, Big Sur, Berkeley, etc.).
In the Whirlwind is a poetic storm that frees history from the cages of corruption and puts it in the hands of everyday people. Words are weaved into a new fashion statement that has nothing to do with runways but everything to do with projects!
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Bye the bye,... the other night I awoke to a ripping sound of lightning tearing the fabric of the night and kept thinking shards of light--hence this week's poem.
Ron
Take care,
Sherry
Sage
((Love And Healing, JoAnne ))
TRASK
Your poetry has touched me with its
strength and sweet dawning
comprehension..."Blood of my Dreams" is
a powerful write...
Amy Ramdass
Paul;-)
Love tinka
Are you still in Hawaii? Or did you return to NYC?
I'm in the Bronx myself these days.
Cool poem... as always.
Eileen
This is good Jude.
Felix
This one is captivating. I feel there is a story behind this poem. Great write!
Sandie May Angel a.k.a. Sandie Angel :o)
Make sure you never, ever give away the blood of your dreams to anybody...
That is your divine birthright and sovereign gift....
Peter