over woolen eyes
a man loses site
and sits upon a bank
of vaulted skies
with no interest
casting copper
into a stream
of sunken dreams
and no current
values.
horns of a bull
are drawn in sediment
and a bear risen
clawed
into a riverbed
deserted
by fingers of good stock
once held
and bad fates addiction
lost.
on bedrock
the music plays
a hard lullaby
as his soul sleeps
upon notes of green
in pockets of the past
an empty exchange
for the jingle of flattened coins
tracks
riding silent in his arms
derailed.
winds of change
become the future
he now lives out
painting days
with the brush
he now lives in
searching for an eagle
disguised as an angel to be
his guardian of wing.
shadows fall
as graveled thoughts
take hold
his last two cents
not thrown in
without saying
expressionless
he long ago remembers
a penny saved
penny earned
something he could
no longer make
and two pennies still could
sense.
This is very interesting, unique...
there are many contrasting feelings
somewhere between meditation and detachment
and total despair. This poem also has
a very particular rhythm and flow.
I believe when a person becomes lethargic then copper pennies have no value when the heart is hurting. You amaze me in the maturity of your poetry these days.
I'm enjoying your poems more and more.
Blessings and love for a fine holiday.
Susan
Stonefaced, you washed away my eartly desires, bringing me back to nature, where she too can face some pretty harsh obstacles, yet, I have a paintbrush! You gave me a paintbrush! I will always find the beauty in her! I will capture the worth in her simplicity and reflect in this wonderful stream you allow me to flow down...
Outstanding lines in your face! :)...and I'm smiling!
Love and Peace~
Kimmy~
Fine symbols and imagery give added "punch" to this write, John. Thank you for sharing your talent. Love and peace to you,
Regis
Reviewed by Sanja Dayslink (Reader)
Reviewed on April 2, 2008
This took me back home, where as a child I would sit on the bluff of this beautiful meadow. I haven't thought about that place, my thinking place, in years. Thanks for the memories. A beautiful write.
This is mystical and transporting, John. I think we are on a similar wavelength with our current writes... in an obtuse kind of way! :)) There is an hypnotic sensuousness that is almost hermetic when you combine the flow of crystal clear waters with the ideas of panning for luck or gold... our perceptions of reality and time get warped along with our raised expectations or diminished hopes. I may be totally off beam here, but guess I have entered a kind of dream state with your glorious alchemy of imagery and concept. Your style of writing sends my thoughts scattering like light into so many different directions. I hope that something of my refracted ideas reflect clearly a little of what you are saying! Love, Kate xx
Reviewed by ~ Holly Harbridge (Reader)
Reviewed on March 31, 2008
Oh the wonderful riddles buried deep withing the lines of a poem that only the poet truly understands. ENJOYED,love holly
This one gives me shivers of delight... so many things to pick apart and praise about this one. The imagery is so...so...superb! I was there with the man tossing pennies in the stream. And the metaphors...WOW! This is one rich poem in that regard!! MMM...it was just a delicious feast to savor...
I also loved how you could almost dissect this in many parts and read a different poem by reading every other line. (Maybe you didn't mean to do that... but it was cool to read some of it that way anyway. :~))
Cryssa
..'As his soul sleeps upon notes of green in pockets of the past'... 'Winds of change become the future'.... 'Shadows fall as graveled thoughts'-----BEAUTIFUL, I LOVE THIS SENTENCES!!!!!!!!!!!!! Liana Margiva
"something he could no longer make and they still could sense." Not really sure from a grammar point of view what "they" it refers to (his thoughts, angels? the eagle) I'm confused there. BUT your originality wins - I like this and it's hard for me to like anything when I'm depressed today. Sadly this poem is more appropos to my situation then you can realize...
Clever in verse...incredible imagery as always. My favortie lines..."he now lives in
searching for an eagle
disguised as an angel to be
his guardian of wing." Just beautiful.
Oh, I sooooo love the imagery in this. --Sitting "upon a bank
of vaulted skies...casting copper into a stream of sunken dreams...shadows fall as graveled thoughts take hold..." It's such an ethereal piece with little inner peace. But I hope he finds it. I truly do. --Charlie
I think Benjamin Franklin would believe a man to be wise who pinches his pennies rather than toss them into a stream, with no more than wishes of better days ahead. Also, if he meets with hard times, he must not sit and ponder about the days when some of his pockets were bulging with different denominations and others containing coins of varying worth. And, he who allows another to pull the wool over his eyes, leading him toward making bad investments, will indeed lose sight of all that he has with the passing of time. Some can play the stock market, study the ways of the bull and the bear, but others stand to lose thir shirt in a heartbeat. What a wonderful play with words, John. I can read your poems time and again and see something new with each read. I envy your gift. David Lee Thompson
Full of imagery and wisdom - reminds me of the Goldrush days - dreams and hopes - well done, John, nice to read you again!
(((HUGS))) and love, karla.
Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader)
Reviewed on March 29, 2008
Reverbrations of the old and the learned come into play here . . . And when the last two cents are not cast . . . The dye however is . . . And it colors his world . . .
Oh John, that last verse just killed me.. and there is a reason why. I will tell you one day why this poem touches me so. You are a brilliant writer and I do not believe I say that often enough to you. Your word paintings are like Braille beneath my fingertips...
As always,
Myrna
clever wordplay from beginning to end. Nice imagery is evoked. you might check live "in" again as it's confusing near that part or i read it wrong--he lives in the brush? Cheers
Contraband Marriage, traveling along the hemline of loving after incarceration, is a love story written in lyric and free form, set in reality with a different ever after.
Each person is but a grain of sand resting beside the sea. This thought sets the tone for Jill Eisnaugle’s latest poetry collection, Beside Still Waters.
This is a book of free verse poetry that addresses the seven main tests in life and offers some sensible solutions to passing those tests with minimal discomfort.
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there are many contrasting feelings
somewhere between meditation and detachment
and total despair. This poem also has
a very particular rhythm and flow.
Axilea
I'm enjoying your poems more and more.
Blessings and love for a fine holiday.
Susan
"expressionless" wonderful title however most assuredly a befitting one too.
Continued blessings John,
~Gwendolyn
Outstanding lines in your face! :)...and I'm smiling!
Love and Peace~
Kimmy~
Regis
Sanja xo
I also loved how you could almost dissect this in many parts and read a different poem by reading every other line. (Maybe you didn't mean to do that... but it was cool to read some of it that way anyway. :~))
Cryssa
Peace be with you
William
SOme call it to be "penny-wise-OR-pound-foolish!!"
Love Tinka
Newfie hugs, Rose
:)Christine
to mull over many times. superb John!
searching for an eagle
disguised as an angel to be
his guardian of wing." Just beautiful.
This poem is richly metaphoric
The power of money
Has no comparision
To the power of your pen.
Doug
People just walk over pennies these days like they
are nothing. Too good to pick one up..
Ron
of vaulted skies...casting copper into a stream of sunken dreams...shadows fall as graveled thoughts take hold..." It's such an ethereal piece with little inner peace. But I hope he finds it. I truly do. --Charlie
Micke
(((HUGS))) and love, karla.
As always,
Myrna