I don't know where this came from. I woke up in the middle of the night and it was there... ...like a vision.
This Place
The field is quiet now In the maddening heat of aging June After the passing of the soldiers And the war machines In this place The cries and laughter of children The song sparrows of the tall grasses The frogs of the swamp Even the perennial call of the cuckoo From nearby woods Are no more All is silent But for the incessant buzzing of flies A deafening din Enough to render one insane This place of wilted flowers It smells of death and decay Enough to make one sick to the stomach And certainly to the soul A deep and insistent illness Like an awakening cancer After this place I doubt I shall ever again Be able to look in the mirror At myself
MY, MY...WHAT A TREMENDOUS WORK OF CONFESSION AND COMPLETE 'BARING' OF ONE'S SOUL...A STRONG, GRASPING METAPHORICAL WORK OF ONE LOOKING INSIDE ONES SELF...THE 'PLACE'...THAT IS 'QUIE NOW' AFTER SO MUCH HAS, AT LAST, PASSED. I READ THIS OVER THREE TIMES...AND BECAUSE I ALWAYS SEE THINGS FROM A SPIRITUAL POINT OF VIEW FIRST, I UNDERSTOOD IT FROM THE FIRST READ BUT...I FELT THE 'NEED' TO BE BATHED AGAIN AND AGAIN IN THIS WONDERFUL ARTISTICAL 'WATERS' OF PERFECTION. HONESTLY...I FEEL THIS IS THE VERY BEST OF YOUR WORKS THAT I HAVE READ. THANK YOU REGIS...YOU SEE, I'VE BEEN THERE AND IT IS REALLY LIKE THAT ISN'T IT? ALL I CAN SAY IS, THANK GOD FOR THE 'QUITE'! FOR HIS BLESSED SALVATION AND SAVING POWER THAT CLEANSES ALL OF THAT MUCK AND MIRE OUT OF US AND WE ARE ABLE TO DO WHAT WE THOUGHT WE COULD NEVER DO AGAIN...WE LOOK IN THE MIRROR. FOR WE ARE NEW AND 'THE FIELD...IS SO VERY QUIET...NOW'. HALLELUJAH!!! IF YOU DON'T MIND WHEN I GET MY PRINTER, I AM GOING TO MAKE A COPY OF THIS MASTERPIECE...DO YOU MIND? GOD BLESS YOU AND MUCH LOVE,
JOYCE * HIS INSPIRATIONS.
Wow! This write is very deep. You have such a way of delivering startling detail and depth into a mere photo! Great job, my dear Regis! Always such a pleasure to come to your page!
The spirit of Ireland wakens in all of us the yearning for peace.Perhaps this is something of your dream or perhaps it's the world as a whole but anger and war angers you. It frustrates me and it's been redundant for too many centuries. Is there such a word as peace anymore?
I wonder too.
Susan
Reviewed by Only A Poet (Reader)
Reviewed on March 21, 2006
symbolic and deep, the kind of poem you read several times and find new meaning each time. exceptional Regis.
Reviewed by A. Santo (Reader)
Reviewed on March 20, 2006
Sometimes a person's mind sees in visions what their soul has experienced and can not rationally comprehend. Wars and rumors of wars have haunted the race of humanity since the first recorded histories of this earth.
The warlords continue their visions of conquest for power, wealth and control. But the peacemakers - the visionaries - understand that it was just not the earth's properties that were destroyed.
Children, families, laughter and pleasure are bombed and eradicated from the earth. Fear destroys love and peace; the true treasures of life.
Warlords plan their next conquest forgetting that they are the authors of the tragedies left to the legacy of destroying an entire
world. No matter what their spin doctors and false prophets have to say.
Thank you for sharing your thoughts(visions). Never be afraid to express them. One man's vision can be another man's education.
This poem, which you wrote on St. Patrick's Day, brings to mind the past, and occasional present violence in Northern Ireland. I just finished watching a U2 video of this Irish group's concerts across America, and their songs against violence resonated within me, eg. Bloody Sunday.
what a disturbing vision to wake up from, regis...haunting and fraught with troubled implications. i see danger looming, familiar, having passed but threatening to return. the dancing cycle of the seasons reinforces the sense of something inherently personal and meaningful.
Powerful lines of quiet beauty and startling contrast with sudden soul-deep terror. Extraordinary vision, extraordinary poem.
Aberjhani
Reviewed by Tracey L. O' Very (Reader)
Reviewed on March 18, 2006
Regis this is amazing and so powerful and from what's been told to me it's too too true. Salute to those who've gone through this and may no dreams like this come back to you and hope they cease for all so many more.
43xoox(c :)
To me it sounds like a soul that came crying out in the night to one they knew would set them free. And you my good man and Ami, just did!
This is the reality of man's agression. This is the result of war. After all else is over, here's what remains - the pall silence of death. The stink of extermination. Well captured.
What did you eat before you went to bed...? gotta watch that spicy food, it will get you every time...a powerful statement nonetheless on the devastation of war...Ed & rufuz
Apocalyptic visions in line with the barreness after the futuristic nuke. Sounds like the opening of a sci-fi novel. Regis, where sound echoes and carries for miles because there are no trees now to muffle the sounds. A rich write for such a dead This Place!
when we think of all the fields of beauty surrounding humanity's hostility, it is difficult to look at ourselves ... powerful offering, Regis ... excellent images ...
The duality from beauty to destruction is very vivid and deeply moving! I think Nordette has a good suggestion! At such times we all get the feeling you had of guilt for mans inhumanity to man! Excellent write Regis!
Regis, it's possible your muse has given you the beginning of a book, not a poem. That's the thought that came to me while reading this. :-) And since you are talented enough to write both poetry and fiction, consider the possibilities. ~~Nordette
a bit disturbing as it sounds like one of my unwanted vision-dreams, but the poem itself is fierce and would not let me turn away from its powerful message. excellent, Regis. best, Dawn
The reality of war is that it must pass, at least the soldiers and their war machines mumst move on advancing or retreating. The particular war ends --- the other reality of War is that it never ends --- the sights, the sounds the smells linger -- they haunt the soldier forever.
Oh my first thought was Vietnam, Regis, but this was a war that is part of our collective conciousness and I know many vets of that "conflict". I've heard their stories and you nailed it-the hopelessness, insanity, emptiness and the split of identity.
Powerfully written yet in a gentle manner with juxtuposition that drives the horror home even more effectively. Well done!
I just entered the Poem Danny Boy and while not as graphic as what you have written makes me think maybe you heard it before you went to sleep and conjured up this poem.
This pounds at the soul like fists beating against the edges of life, Regis. I hope that this is the aftermath of a dream rather than a strong premonition of our future. Excellent and stirring poetry.
Take care,
Sherry
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JOYCE * HIS INSPIRATIONS.
Peace,
Carolyn
The spirit of Ireland wakens in all of us the yearning for peace.Perhaps this is something of your dream or perhaps it's the world as a whole but anger and war angers you. It frustrates me and it's been redundant for too many centuries. Is there such a word as peace anymore?
I wonder too.
Susan
The warlords continue their visions of conquest for power, wealth and control. But the peacemakers - the visionaries - understand that it was just not the earth's properties that were destroyed.
Children, families, laughter and pleasure are bombed and eradicated from the earth. Fear destroys love and peace; the true treasures of life.
Warlords plan their next conquest forgetting that they are the authors of the tragedies left to the legacy of destroying an entire
world. No matter what their spin doctors and false prophets have to say.
Thank you for sharing your thoughts(visions). Never be afraid to express them. One man's vision can be another man's education.
Janet
Write on.
Sad but true writ, my friend.
:)Sandy
Ron
Aberjhani
43xoox(c :)
To me it sounds like a soul that came crying out in the night to one they knew would set them free. And you my good man and Ami, just did!
Felix
Thanks for sharing this Reg!
This is the reality of man's agression. This is the result of war. After all else is over, here's what remains - the pall silence of death. The stink of extermination. Well captured.
Peace to you,
B
Paul;-)
But for the incessant buzzing of flies
Truly powerful, Regis - and I wonder if that will be the scene at the End of Days, when mankind's bloody history finally comes to an end.
Are you okay my friend???
Love TinkaSweets!!
awesome imagery
William
Peace
Sage
I Don't Know How You Could Not,i.e. Only Those Self Centered Own Inequties...GREED....
TRASK
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :(
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
D
you have caotured both realities
good write
john+
Powerfully written yet in a gentle manner with juxtuposition that drives the horror home even more effectively. Well done!
Love, Lin
Love, Birgit and Roger
~love and peace to you~
~~martin~~
Take care,
Sherry