River mouth, ocean stolen

What words here that pull me
River bled from banks of comfort
Wild and gushing flow sweeps my waters out to coastal sands
Where open mouthed and helpless
I am sucked intensely into ocean current integration
Surrender all that is to this oblivion … my own
And tidal bravery
A boldness ridden
Swept to follow whale song sweetness
Way below that level "breathers" understand
No safety here, but pressure
Deep, deep, weeping water past the tear and anguish
Way beyond that now
To submerged forbidden dangers

Knowledge whispered half
and swallowed back
This place where light is muted
And words can only hint at shaping
Even feeling is a numb pale memory
Such dark shapes that waft beyond my senses
Cannot strike out at me now

Yes deeper, deeper, deeper
Blood is black soft petals here
I watched it bloom in little teardrop perfect form
And perception is an echo washed between the vague moon’s pull

You have changed me now you know
You drew the wild thing from it’s shelter
Now it craves the fin and song
And has absconded swiftly carrying the centre of my knowing
The essence of my being
Out of reach of history or future
Now
Now… breathe…. Sigh….
Now

Soft wafting warmth, the faintest whisper of a life in this vast place
Lost always
And yet dancing still
That puppet plays
Left behind
An empty skin
A dimpled socket filled with green, (or brown if light is weak)
And hollow
Since the soul leaked out and followed to the water
Where you were smiling perfect
with your achingly blue eyes that lit me always, eccept when you were sad
and then they sucked me inward like a black hole on a pin point.
You always smiled with your eyes
With the sun a charming spotlight for your wonder
How could you be so beautiful,
That sucked life from this possibility?

— Cloudthings, Jul 03, 2009

About This Poem

About the Author

Region, Country: Australia, regional Victoria, AUS

Favorite Poets: So many... Rumi, Spike Milligan, Keats. Many of the Neopoet clan, past & present. A myriad of song writers, Dylan, Jackson Browne, Lior, & I must add the poetic influence of painters, sculptors & creators across the world... Life really, especially the sky.

Critiques

deelilah

16 years 11 months ago

This is a deep subject

Yes, that was pun intended, but it is a deep subject, indeed, intense, and powerful. Something, the river, a sea creature, your soul, slipping deeper and deeper, resisting the pressure, yet reveling in the controlling power pulling pulling down down down. . . The effect of the poem is to pull me down into the deep along with everything else, pulling me along and down the lines, not daring to breathe lest I should drown in the words. I don't know where to start, as my breath is gone-- 'Swept to follow whale song sweetness'--gorgeous line 'Knowledge hinted half and swallowed back This place where light is muted And words can only hint at shaping Even feeling is a numb pale memory Such dark shapes that waft beyond my senses Cannot strike out at me now' Yes, things beyond having language for, hints, pale memories--a quest for who knows what, yet beauty and a kind of comfort. 'You drew the wild thing from it’s shelter Now it craves the fin and song' No turning back now-- 'Since the soul leaked out and followed to the water Where you were smiling perfect With the sun a charming spotlight for your wonder How could you be so beautiful, That sucked life from this possibility?' Yes, but the poem leaves me feeling a new and better possibility, one beyond words and knowing. Absolutely stunning. Always, Deelilah PS You have some great pictures.

Cloudthings

16 years 11 months ago

your words here are truly sweet balm & set me back into my centr

Always a sucker for a pun, you popped up just as I was tweeking bits, I added a couple of bits (damn it I AM trying to be less verbose), now after reading this I am wondering it it wasn't better left alone! You have shown this back to me from a different perspective & made me like it more. It is deep, partly about old grief (my partner was effectively swallowed by the ocean years ago when his plane crashed into it, but I have always been a diver in my heart, deep to the point where I struggle to play the normal superficial games human usually sit comfortably with, I think that's why I write), partly about someone who drags me to places of discomfort when I am resistant, but often I find so much more as discomfort so often seems to gift us for our journey with it, & it is partly the romance I have with solitude & ocean depths, poetry & longing. Anyway, I have been a little wobbled today & your words here are truly sweet balm & set me back into my centred internal places... You have read this & responded exactly as I hoped I might reach readers, & I value your word as I value your skill as a poet. I have been a little preoccupied, but haven't noticed any work from you recently, must go look... Hope all is well with you. Thank you again Anni xx We dont believe in ourselves until someone reveals that deep inside us is valuable, worth listening to, worthy of our trust, sacred to our touch. Once we believe in ourselves we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight or any experience that reveal

Seren

16 years 11 months ago

Theres a pull to this one ,

Theres a pull to this one , once you start reading you cant stop, I loved it Anni , another winner .. regards Jayne

Cloudthings

16 years 9 months ago

sorry there are a number of comments here that got lost, don't k

Hi Jayne hope you are well, sorry there are a number of comments here that got lost, don't know how I failed to reply, ancient now apologies.. & thanks for your comment & the stars. (Very sexy pic by the way!) Cheers Anni~ "A word is not the same with one writer as with another. One tears it from his guts. The other pulls it out of his overcoat pocket". ~Charles Peguy

bjp

16 years 11 months ago

Dear Anni,

I have read this poem numerous times. I have been struggling with it for some days now. And finding a response has been the focal point of that struggle. I frequently have the feeling that we joust in secret. I will push in some direction, perhaps arrogantly, and you push back by twisting the notion into something that I must struggle with. Well, that is only fair. This is a brilliant poem in many respects, and very courageous too. Like rainbows from a prism, meanings break out of your words in different directions and colours. There is a mix of grief and a lover and the sea and more. There are interwoven roles. And there is the speaker, almost helpless, "swept away" and yet the author, mixing the broth, enticing, regretting, and playing. So there is control always where it seems absent in the patina of the poem. These are the currents, the sachets, of lovemaking, and that is a courageous thing to set out to do in poem. Indeed, I don't see the point to a love poem that does not, to an extent, live in the erogenous places of the heart. There are many exceptional lines in this poem, and none more so, in my opinion that the last two: "How could you be so beautiful, /That sucked life from this possibility?" Sometime we see beauty as countenance (often in first instance), sometimes in intelligence, but in the long run in integrity and its subset, work (particularly in relation to a union). So there is that terrifically boisterous paradox which says that if a person surrenders integrity to accept an overture based upon their beauty, they lose beauty too, with integrity, from their likeness. Most of us bang our heads and our hearts against this irony, weeping at its meanness. But that is the way things work, so there is nothing to do about it. Taking the other possible meaning from the line, perhaps beauty, again meaning integrity, never resided in the first place. That would explain why the life sucking was allowed. So, either the beauty was deceptive or the asker asked for too much. And either of these possibilities shade a readers suspicion into otherwise magnificent words. It is to be remembered that a poem's strength is usually measured by its universal appeal. All readers, ideally, should be able to cast themselves as the longed for lover, and be delighted to do so. The above dilemma reduces delight. Further, the apparently female voice is cast deferring to the lover's lead. There was a time that I told Olya about men's attraction to women's smells, and in particular, their attraction to the vulva and its smells. Olya was surprised but could be convinced. I think most women know the inherent power of their sexuality and I think most men have run into that power flagrantly wielded (I am not saying it never happens the other way around). In this poem, there is a smattering of that power both fained and fawned. I think there is probably more universal comfort with that power judiciously used but acknowledged. But my trouble is that I do not like saying things to you that I don't think you will like to hear. But I will. Further, I do dance with poetry, commenting with love poems, rather than analysis, but I won't do that with you (I will write some poems but they are careful). Not because you are undeserving or some other adverse reason. Just because it is not safe or just for all concerned. I encourage you to remain provocative in your poetry, as this poem so amply demonstrates. Brian

Cloudthings

16 years 9 months ago

You are a strong character you resonate loud & long for many of

Hi Brian... this seems so ancient now... as I said to Jayne... there are a number of comments here that got lost, sorry. & such a juicy comment too, I have to go to work soon hope I can reply succinctly & have food & coffee, which I am craving just now. I have to laugh at your line here "But my trouble is that I do not like saying things to you that I don’t think you will like to hear. But I will", with some distance, you know, I greet your comment with deep joy & significant anxiety, an awful mix of hope (which I HATE... hope is completely toxic for me, I hate disapointment, I'd rather just remain blind & be fed what comes than hope... but it creeps in... along with that tormenting sensation longing, which is almost as bad... sounding cynical.. not really I remain boeyant & happy generally though still somewhat flat from recent events & illness.. just avoid things that hurt wherever I can that's all & hope & longing have a history of vile intrusion & painful outcomes). Anyway before I reply to your comment I thought I should be bold & tell you that this poem was written on thinking on you... the last stanza is about my partner who's plane crashed into the ocean many years ago... (that crept in via association with the diving... I became obsessed with diving after his accident, for obvious reasons (I assume obvious)..._ Perhaps you knew that anyway, though as I often prefer, it is very cryptic, may not have known who it was about, I guess it was an early "Ode", but I didn't feel inclined to name it thus at the time for many reasons. I should point out... except for the last section that falls into the ever ajar spaces where I contain (interesting irony) loss (ie Marks death), it is not a love poem as you suggest, though love in the form of gratitude is probably there & struggle which can become a form of intimacy in some respects (to greater & lesser credit). You set me to struggle & that makes me want to submerge myself. cut myself free, set myself adrift & be at the mercy of a more natural form of danger & unknown... I can cope with this better than human disruption & applications of insistant suggestion... sometimes almost accusations. I find these confusing since I desperately want to believe (my mind asks - to my shame - to please? - Probably & to do so annihilates me ... I often feel like that with my sisters (I am the youngest & we are not close, they lived with my father, and/or moved out before I was 10) so they hardly know me but insist they do). So this is the effect you have on me (there is nothing bad here though, just precarious & ominous at worst)... though of course it varies... You push me more than most, you think it's a good thing, I am not ever sure of that, sometimes it has (in the past) felt cruel... especially since - as you profess - you tend to show me less of the kindness I see you visit others with... but I am not complaining, I can survive it (snicker) in truth I am always hugely thankful when you give my work attention. You are a strong character you resonate loud & long for many of us I am sure & your words are never lightly read I think, likely rare they are lightly written... You rarely let me sit in peace as I desire, I have a duality of sensation about it, I feel you punish me for my own good in a way (in your mind), & whilst you reward abundantly also, even just by your presence, I sometimes wish you knew more before you leapt... that could be said of anyone, but you are strong in your opinions (yes me too, but I think more gently offered here unless I feel a serious line has been crossed & someone's wellbring has been threatened.). I had a giggle at myself recently I was wondering in puzzled consternation, what possessed me to post a certain photo... then had to laugh as I removed it, realising it was a reaction to your comment about me stirring things up with my images... so yes, I think you are right in your opening lines "I frequently have the feeling that we joust in secret. I will push in some direction, perhaps arrogantly, and you push back by twisting the notion into something that I must struggle with. Well, that is only fair" I will have to come back, someone is at the door, need to go anyway. Cheers Anni~ "A word is not the same with one writer as with another. One tears it from his guts. The other pulls it out of his overcoat pocket". ~Charles Peguy

Cloudthings

16 years 9 months ago

Sorry I missed this, gotta race to work now, back after th wkend

Sorry I missed this, gotta race to work now, back after the weekend to reply... must look for more of your work though I LOVED it! AnniCheers Anni~ "A word is not the same with one writer as with another. One tears it from his guts. The other pulls it out of his overcoat pocket". ~Charles Peguy

Cloudthings

16 years 6 months ago

It is late now, but I really appreciate your suggestions here

Hi Theo, I am still trawling through my unfinished biz inbox-wise, & here is another I had not gotten back to... sorry, July was a dreadful month in a way... It is late now, but I really appreciate your suggestions here & will come back & see how I might edit this one at your very worthy prompting. I do love your comments, wherever I find them, on mine or another work, you have a wonderful mind. Cheers Anni~ "When we feel love and kindness toward others, it not only makes others feel loved and cared for, but it helps us also to develop inner happiness and peace". H.H. the Dalai Lama