Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Torn Lantern

Who might dare exit through the torn lantern shade
in the southern sky? Step into the scar that rips in two
the ruinous haven of pride and discontent; alone,
gutsy, insanely in love with light’s majesty, burnt
to cinder for distrust and shame that are human nature.
Pride is the coward’s shibboleth, the saint’s cloven-hoof;
rest in the arms of the storm, naked, ablaze with love;
seek catastrophe on the farthest side of the spectating crowd
of chattering lives you jigsaw into form from ennui.

Let the dogs shiver in their beds, the horses run
and buck wildly in fleeing thunder the predator.
For I who stand here extinguished beyond recall,
on a boundary without name or place; home without address;
I am not what I would be, I will be what I can’t,
beckoned into being by light beyond belief and thought.

(c) copyright 2011 Charles David Miller. All rights reserved.

29 comments:

  1. Pride is the coward’s shibboleth, the saint’s cloven-hoof;
    rest in the arms of the storm, naked, ablaze with love

    love the contrasts in the first part of the above verse and the empowerment in the second line...and being ablaze with love, not that is a beautiful thing...

    I am not what I would be, I will be what I can’t,
    beckoned into being by light beyond belief and thought

    the second set of lines i quote are just what i needed to hear today as well...i am stuck in a rather melancholy mood the last couple days...so this was a bit of a kick in the pants i needed...

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    1. Brian, I'm gkad the words brought some form of solace. And thank you so much for your kind comments.

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  2. 'insanely in love with light’s majesty' I want to abide in that and rejuvenate awhile by the lantern of your incandescent verse.

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  3. A poem that takes the journey from darkness into light. I like it!

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  4. "insanely in love with light’s majesty" This resonated strongly with me Charles--maybe it is my wish--Loved this write!

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  5. Love these lines...I am not what I would be, I will be what I can’t,
    beckoned into being by light beyond belief and thought.

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  6. Whew, metanoetic this is! Every time I read this, I take a new meaning out of it. Floundering in metanoia.

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  7. Whatever its entry point,
    the Light is the way.
    Beautiful way to say it!

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  8. Really like the last two lines. Inspirational.

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  9. I read it twice, will probably read again. The words are powerful. The message unfolds with each read. I absolutely love the last line because I need to be what I can't right now. I guess we all do.

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  10. "...the ruinous haven of pride and discontent..." To lie naked in the arms of the storm -- to set aside self, abandon pride and pretense, and simply "be", experience, accept and trust. Powerful images. These words ask to be read and read again as they slowly unfold. Your words have left me thinking.

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  11. A thought provoking and deeply religious poem ( my interpretation at least)
    beautifully wrought with passion and belief ' insanely in love with light's majesty'.

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  12. I am glad you sharing your old writing Charles...its spiritual and evokes deep thoughts.

    I specially like these lines:

    I am not what I would be, I will be what I can’t,
    beckoned into being by light beyond belief and thought.

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  13. "For I who stand here extinguished beyond recall,
    on a boundary without name or place; home without address;
    I am not what I would be, I will be what I can’t,
    beckoned into being by light beyond belief and thought."

    Excellent expression, wonderful reflection. With Brian on this. Wonderfully uplifting reminder to be who we are, irregardless. Loved it!

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  14. Yes, I also found the close the strongest part of this intense poem. Agh! So hard to BE in the world. k.

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  15. I could totally see this on some sort of sci-fi channel. visual this was written vivid and your words well.
    http://leah-jamielynn.typepad.com

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  16. "rest in the arms of the storm, naked, ablaze with love" The power of the mystic :)

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  17. Wow, this is a wonderful piece. I love the final lines.

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  18. Who might dare exit through the torn lantern shade
    in the southern sky?...what a set up for another excellent poem..so much between the lines..so much strong emotions in this...esp...For I who stand here extinguished beyond recall,
    on a boundary without name or place; home without address... spoke to me..
    and by the way...you were spot on with your comment...

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  19. Joyce, that bricoleur of dark psyche's verbal ziggurat, was terrified of thunder; he wrote some of the greatest onomatopeia in our language, in mimesis of that elemental, eternal crack of judgment from above; what is more productive of language than our guilty, neurotic love and fear of disobedience, the sweetness of the forbidden fruit, the adders coiled there? The tongue loves that stuff. I'm going to guess it was surrender, not clout, that allows the speaker to make that tear in the sky a crown. Either way, love replaces fear, a sense of place in awe and awfulness. Standing raw and true in the Word -- "I am not what I would be, I will be what I can’t" -- is the poet's vocation. Fine work, Chazz. - Brendan

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  20. The last two lines of this beautifully crafted piece resonates with me and brings me odd and unexpected comfort. Beautiful poem, Chazzy!

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  21. This is more than a read it gets inside and frolics

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  22. This is an interesting one to me, for the way it builds so gradually, toys with several different motifs, then really seems to hone in and hit the gut with that last stanza--I started out thinking of sunsets, night, oppression of spirit, and ended up wondering about what went down in North Carolina last night, about division, pride shame and love, and politicians with everything sacrificed to the imagined perceptions of "..the spectating crowd/of chattering lives you jigsaw into form from ennui." Probably the last thing you had in mind, but that's where it took me. Fine writing, hard hitting, full of longing and love of light in darkness.

    (Sorry to be so late getting here, Charles. When the numbers of links get huge I often miss people I'm looking for, and I looked for you last night but just couldn't see your name where it was nestled in the masses of others. Blame my eyes, which are badly in need of new glasses. Should have just come here from my blogroll.)

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  23. Wonderful poetry. I especially loved:

    Step into the scar that rips in two
    the ruinous haven of pride and discontent;

    Amazing...thank you for posting this.
    -Eva VP

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  24. Chaz, like Brian, this poem gave me an emotional lift tonight. We all seem to backslide into dark canyons filled with emotional spider webs, caught in sticky grayness, but we are more than we think, more than we know, or think we know; so we rise from the web, shooting straight up into the light, leaving clumps of stringy web in the wind.

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  25. Wonderful words (all).

    I am not what I would be, I will be what I can’t,
    beckoned into being by light beyond belief and thought.

    (Especially these!)

    Anna :o]

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  26. chattering lives you jigsaw into form...I love that! We all have such a bias for form/patterns--even amidst the chaos, especially amidst the chaos.\\ sondra

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  27. Ah...like coming from the dark into the light, you've written something really good here. I enjoyed it, as well as all the comments.

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  28. This conjured up an odd feeling- that feeling often felt but that can't be out into words - those moments where the beauty of the external world reflects the internal...that sense of connection to the world, of the future, of 'what if's - the remarkable thing here is the way you captured this feeling in a poem....I saw the sun...the storm on the plane and the wild horses ....all this sounds intangible- and I guess it is....I suppose what I'm saying is that it made me close my eyes, see, and feel

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