Passion collides
Into a pointless place
Where just a month ago
Life appeared so polished and smooth
But the indisputable reckoning
Of legitimacy began to rise
From within the core of an awkward momentum
The surface of love’s embrace transformed
Becoming brittle and weak
Like stale honey candy
Hidden from view
And while looking for sustenance
For a source of emotional nourishment
Only artificial dreams revealed symbolic gestures
Exposing counterfeit eyes
Divulging bogus credentials
Upon the inconsequential stream of substance
So divine intervention reinforced its negligible influence
Leaving the outcome up to the wind
Signaling a path to the inevitable
To a plateau where the pretense of self-elevation
Became desperate and deprecating
Like a wounded animal hunting for the very blood
It was bleeding
And the result was futile and unnecessary
Like passion draining
From the source of its own infliction
"Staleness" seems to be the centrifugal force here. Feels like over-chewed gum or a gob-stopper you've sucked all the flavour out of. So well-expressed, Jude, and it makes me think of all manner of relationships which go through times of over-intensity or unhealthy co-dependence. For me, though, this speaks as much about the struggles with the inner self as about other external socio-dynamics. I can relate to the Narcissistic artist who has eaten him/herself up with over-reflection and too much introspection. Perhaps as an isolate by preference I am especially prone. Self-love can ultimately lead to self-harm, I guess. Again, just another alternative interpretation and application of your always hyper-tensile verses. Great flow and projection to this. TY K xx
Reviewed by Debra Harmes-Kurth (Reader)
Reviewed on February 8, 2007
I loved this~! Nothing earth shattering and dramatic, like so many poems of this theme, but earthy and realistic. Like so many flowers dying in a vase.
debra
WOW! This is packed with emotion. I also really like the comparison:
"Becoming brittle and weak
Like stale honey candy
Hidden from view"
It's perfect!
Great piece.
Abigail
a superb write, jude. nothing more painfully revealing than legitimacy questioned from within "the core of an awkward momentum"... well done.
peace,
carolyn
I truly love the way you express yourself. You manage to put into words feelings that most people cannot do.
This one touched my heart and my soul.but passion comes and goes
And I believe that to a carrying progressive soul like yours, it Will returned! your poem evoked
Intense emotion, therefore, it is a work Great piece of art!!!!
Love And Peace Always...Morning Star
Passion may drain or wane but to a progressive soul it will return more powerful than before. It is in a low place we determine to stretch for the heights. Wonderful poem Jude.
Isn't it interesting how sweet it is coming into love, yet once we actually find ourselves in the midst of love, the baggage that we carry spoils the sweetness of the mulling pot of emotions and leaves us in a position to fear the repeating of past failures? Somehow, we manage to sabotage yet another chance at real happiness and true love, and probably never even realize that it is our own fear of being hurt, disillusioned or of being alone that delivers all of those things into our life, once again. This is a very strong, exceptional offering, Jude, that reveals as much about the self that we keep tucked out of our own view, hidden behind the heavy, black, velvet curtain of dilusion, as it does about the other person with whom we are involved.
Take care,
Sherry
Expert writing techniques with lots of metaphors. Of course, this entire piece is metaphoric for someone who is hurting a lot and cannot find a way out. Exceptional write! (And I don't say that very often.)
Intense and radically interesting reading that flashes dire images at the reader as he dwells on each line savoring the depth and breath of what you are saying and what lies between the lines...
Such is the wiliness of extant - and inner - forces draining our passion for the achievable that suddenly becomes declared out of bounds. One of the most tragic examples is to be found in Gibbens' nove, Sunset Song. In this, Mr Guthrie, starting out as a young man full of passion, finds his healthy, youthful ambition and urges suppressed not by '...divine intervention...' but by the earthly, pious custodians of its decrees. He died a confused, tortured wreck.
Evocative write. This is the third poem I've reviewed this morning, and once more my train of thought has swerved in another direction.
Regards
Dai
Reviewed by Victor Buhagiar (Reader)
Reviewed on February 5, 2007
Things do go wrong, but they have a habit of getting right again. So long as we don't lose hope. Victor
Wow! What a thought provoking write my friend...you've captured my attention, I found myself reading this write over and over, each time finding a line that filled me with many emotions and curiosity...my favorite lines were;
only artificial dreams revealed symbolic gestures
Exposing counterfeit eyes...
counterfeit eyes and artificial dreams...thought provoking indeed.
Enjoyed this one much...a keeper for me!
Blessings,
Joyce B...
Hey Bob, for a change, being sober as it were, I actually almost understood this one, let me take a hit and re-read it, then see where it leads...but then I won't be able to leave another comment...as usual I am losing "it"...goodnight, Ed & Rufuz
Ya know Robert, I think we're walking upon the same path and I'm wondering who is leading and who is behind.
It's a thought in a thinking man's poetry then here comes a woman poet to cross the roads and muck it all up.
Susan
hey, it makes for good poetry, right? excellent imagery esp. wounded animal hunting... also liked "indisputable reckoning of legitimacy." great work. Dawn
ah...jude...i hope you are writing this from the position of placing yourself in the emotion rather than feeling it...love...she's such a player. and mimics the fact we are created and begin dying from the moment we begin breathing-it is only what we do with the moments in between that marks our path.
so in love-we either grow with it-or infuse and drain it of its own power. sad that the latter rather than the former is all too often the case.
Perhaps "..Quiet Storm" will help rekindle old flames buried and long forgotten or express the love so deeply locked inside of your soul longing to be released.
Regardless of where you may be found in love this beautiful masterpiece can be
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Your usual way of provoking deep thought.
Ron
Regis
debra
"Becoming brittle and weak
Like stale honey candy
Hidden from view"
It's perfect!
Great piece.
Abigail
~hugs~
Karen
Peace. Joyce
For me the reading is of mixed emotion which makes an intriguing read I must say.
peace,
carolyn
TRASK
Love,
CJ
An incredibly panoramic capture of one of the harsh dramas of life!
Impeccably done, as always.
Be blessed.
Love, Rhonda
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
This one touched my heart and my soul.but passion comes and goes
And I believe that to a carrying progressive soul like yours, it Will returned! your poem evoked
Intense emotion, therefore, it is a work Great piece of art!!!!
Love And Peace Always...Morning Star
The surface of love’s embrace transformed
Becoming brittle and weak
Like stale honey candy
Hidden from view
fantastic!
Take care,
Sherry
Love Tinka
Fee
Evocative write. This is the third poem I've reviewed this morning, and once more my train of thought has swerved in another direction.
Regards
Dai
only artificial dreams revealed symbolic gestures
Exposing counterfeit eyes...
counterfeit eyes and artificial dreams...thought provoking indeed.
Enjoyed this one much...a keeper for me!
Blessings,
Joyce B...
It's a thought in a thinking man's poetry then here comes a woman poet to cross the roads and muck it all up.
Susan
so in love-we either grow with it-or infuse and drain it of its own power. sad that the latter rather than the former is all too often the case.
nice read.
thank you, Donna.