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On the homespun ridge

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  • On the homespun ridge

    Up on the homespun ridge,
    tracing as ever the track from yellow
    anthill through the ferns
    and headless boles lightning burned,
    I found again in the shapes
    of sandstone, and their bloodspill
    of lichen, fossil rite
    of the billion rains that built
    my clinging ape's domain,
    my alien spirit's lull of rest.

    Of the safeguard mist that dewed
    our quiet yards cooled
    in the salt sigh of waves
    the shapes were father and mother:
    forms that grew before
    the gracile bone had strutted us
    to the hunt; their folds
    and pocks and rippling told
    their eon lurch from earth
    to my winter-prickling now.

    Of titan seas a mountain's height
    above this latest age sucked
    away to crumbled floors,
    the burr of their hides
    the weltering physics encoded,
    offering all of time in a touch
    to the fleeting hand of a witness,
    child of an instant:
    my far-fetched simian,
    angel-chastened skinful.
    Last edited by grant hayes; 08-08-2018, 07:37 PM.

  • #2
    OMG, This brilliant Poem touches on Everything, with brilliant imagery that even Tanner can understand: Personal and Evolutionary in the same depth and breadth of Spirit. A remarkable
    write!

    their bloodspill
    of lichen, fossil rite
    of the billion rains that built
    my clinging ape's domain,
    my alien spirit's lull of rest.

    the gracile bone had strutted us
    to the hunt

    the weltering physics encoded,
    offering all of time in a touch

    Comment


    • grant hayes
      grant hayes commented
      Editing a comment
      Hello, Tanner. Yes, even grant can understand this one too! I am gradually finding my way to a balance between challenge and comprehensibility. The typical out-on-a-limb opacity has been a kind of training ground in the pure music of words; it's time now to 'reel it in' and aerate the density. I'm glad this one resonated with you.

  • #3
    3 stanzas, 10 lines each, 30 lines in all. I love this, it should be framed, it IS framed. I really enjoy this for the qualities I feel it exudes. I feel like If I were to attempt to get at this, of course it would be different -- you "trace" a line through such beautiful narration. Lovely diction and the ending is nice. It sort of ends on a "middling" where the voice might otherwise raise or lower to make it final, and the construction that says, basically, about all of that, summing up "my skinful." I thought naturally of alchemy with all of the elements proposed, "the shapes were father and mother".

    Third stanza I like how the floor seems to "drop" from beneath you, to the bottom of the sea, in my mind's eye. I can't tell if this "my" far-fetched, isn't like a God admiring its creation, standing back and pointing. Or like pointing to the vessel contemplating all of this.

    Enjoyed, thankya!

    Comment


    • grant hayes
      grant hayes commented
      Editing a comment
      amenOra, I look forward to your comments because they never fail to educate me about the work in question. You read with your heart and your head, and I appreciate you sharing the results so vibrantly. I am glad you like this one; thankya!

    • amenOra
      amenOra commented
      Editing a comment
      My pleasure, I have my own comprehension -- I like to get into the mind sometimes as if I was writing the poem, analyze from there. I think the best "writing" is stripped bare of all convention and has its own clockwork to it, it makes up its own rules, has a self-evident law, "itself".
      Just some musing.
      Peace

  • #4
    Beautiful. Sweeping. Majestic.

    Comment


    • grant hayes
      grant hayes commented
      Editing a comment
      Why thank you, Rhymist

  • #5
    From the ridge brow's
    homespun flow
    through Olduvai's
    deserted shore
    Swartkrans
    stands
    but steps
    away

    Comment


    • #6
      ^ No killer felines in the vicinity of my ridge, Johntee, so to end up some future paleontologist's learned article, I'd have to disappear down a disused mineshaft or fissure in the riven bluff.

      Comment


      • #7
        Grant this took me from the frailty of humanity to the god-like heights. That’s quite a poem that can do that. Truly enjoyed it. Thank you.

        Comment


        • grant hayes
          grant hayes commented
          Editing a comment
          I'm glad you found it so, Alexandra. As I was working with a mess of words, I realised they were starting to take that direction, so I went along with it.

      • #8
        Grant so much to ponder yet I don't need a key to decode. Not so much a change of direction just a change of emphasis and it works so well.

        Comment


        • #9
          ^ Parkinsonspoet, sometimes I manage to make sense. It's like angling for some rare fish. Thank you for the encouragement

          Comment

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