I live at the fuzzy edge of words,
anxious but alive in silence.
What I can't say stands bundled
in gaudy, hand me down pants,
hungry like a poor immigrant,
ironic, cold, and thirsty for truth.
From anonymity I'll send out
my coordinates to be found,
but only naked. My fate launched
by the stars, I'll break loose
of dead end streets and scrawl
graffiti for faceless others
to read and walk into tomorrow.
A hazy sun melts into gold
and umber which trees dip
their bony brushes into
and paint the moon a missal of joy.
Bring me to what can't be bought
with a hardened heart,
to the gift that sits in the sun,
crack winged, broken beaked
flying free through a pane reflecting light.
Sun drips dew drops from the roof
to let me know that I am of the day.
(c) copyright 2012 Charles David Miller. All rights reserved.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Of the Day
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Very nice!
ReplyDeleteFor me the opening lines are the heart of the piece--
I live at the fuzzy edge of words,
anxious but alive in silence.
I wonder if we all feel that way--
@AudreyHowitt
The first stanza in particular is a beaut. The poem has an in-the-moment feeling that I like, and I love love love the sound inside "Sun drips dew drops."
ReplyDeletei love the whole poem charles...but esp. felt this...
ReplyDeleteBring me to what can't be bought
with a hardened heart,
to the gift that sits in the sun,
crack winged, broken beaked
flying free through a pane reflecting light.... overwhelms me with emotions...
The opening stanza is just brilliant! Love your choices of metaphors for the things we cannot say.
ReplyDeleteMy Poet's Pub poem: A Potty Plaque for Giving Back.
Those first last two lines are just fabulous...you have a wonderful connection to nature that really resonates for me.. "A hazy sun melts into gold
ReplyDeleteand umber which trees dip
their bony brushes into
and paint the moon a missal of joy" ..beautiful!
hey man i am following your graffiti...smiles...as you spread sunshine...that next to last stanza is just wicked good man...
ReplyDeleteThis is beautiful. A poem from the heart! I really liked the last two lines.
ReplyDeleteA beautiful sense of life in the commonplace, of vivid color against drab, and finally, of a unity where there is no it and them and me and you. The first line is classic, the ending just glows, and the middle meander is a well-stitched tapestry between. If i had to pick a favorite, it would be the penultimate stanza, which lifts the heart. Fine writing once again, Chaz.
ReplyDeleteI love it...specially these lines:
ReplyDeleteBring me to what can't be bought
with a hardened heart,
to the gift that sits in the sun,
crack winged, broken beaked
flying free through a pane reflecting light.
Sun drips dew drops from the roof
to let me know that I am of the day.
Terrific write ~
This is a poem for everyone, of course, but especially, the writer, the poet. Those first two lines, drew me in hook, line, and sinker. Some really beautiful imagry and metaphors throughout, Chaz. Not going to pick one cuz that would mean I'm neglecting the others. Just beautiful, poet!
ReplyDeleteReally like the way you used transition here. It seems as if every line and/or newly developed thought/image feeds directly off what came before. This moves the reader very nicely from line 1 to the last line. Some really nice description here as well, anxious but alive, gaudy, hand me downs, hungry, ironic, cold, thirsty-my favorite progression here, and there are many more, as well I enjoyed the aery feel here, capped by the wonderful last two lines. Excellent job, thanks
ReplyDeleteToo hard to pick what I love best...but as soon as I read about the gaudy pants and was whisked away entranced to the end, I had to go back to the beginning and start all over again. This is a wonderful piece! Thanks for sharing it.
ReplyDeleteI love this poem Mr C! & I mean all of it, I can see a flower in your voice, it's very cool...and perhaps even sense opening up to more freedom, strength, I hope you don't mind me saying so...particular lines that struck some lovely bells in me are:
ReplyDelete'& paint the moon a missal of joy'
'my coordinates to be found, but only naked'
and everything from 'to the gift that sits in the sun' ..until the close 'to let me know that I am of the day'
such hope, such a quest....K
Valerie (@annehedonia13) writes from Twitter:
ReplyDelete@shralec re: "Of the Day" ~ I agree with what another comment stated, that this is a poem for and about poets and writers. And it seems to me Charles, that all of your poems are "about" (often not literally) that altered state that poems produce in the mind and senses. I like how you often switch between different states of awareness and perception - or even when you stick with one and explore it thoroughly.
Also, I see in this piece acceptance of the risk of being open - of being foolish - of being broken - and laying it all out there in order to write as you do. Powerful.
ha...i thought i had read this before...this time i loved esp. the part..
ReplyDeleteI'll break loose
of dead end streets and scrawl
graffiti for faceless others
to read and walk into tomorrow.... funny how the focus can change...a fine poem charles..also loved how you start it..living at the fuzzy edge of words...very cool..
yeah, diggin' the first stanza, love the descriptors and language in this
ReplyDeletegood to return to this one man....if you send out coordinates and i dont show up...it is because you said you would be found naked...i may mail you some clothes first....smiles......you are of the day...
ReplyDeletePoetry is surely meant to do what this does- dazzles, delights, connects us with what is. Thanks,
ReplyDeleteMary
I love the juxtaposition of anonymity and naked-ness. So right.
ReplyDeleteI love the last line... great poem!
ReplyDeleteLoved the opening two lines, everything in between and the last two stanzas blew me away. 'Let me know that I am of the day.' Beautiful. Poetry at its finest Charles.
ReplyDeleteOnce again I'll tell you that your blog is impossible for me to maneuver. I know it's my sad old computer (incompatible with blogger, it seems). But it feels like my cursor is allergic to your poems--which I hate, because I love them.
ReplyDelete"I live at the fuzzy edge of words" ... Love this.
"What I can't say stands bundled
in gaudy, hand me down pants" ... You make a great point here. Poetry might very well be more what is trapped in the mind than what is expressed in words.
"From anonymity I'll send out
my coordinates" ... Perfect.
"Bring me to what can't be bought" ... A reasonable request to ask of a poem.
Again I'm struck by the immediacy in this, and the interweaving of human and natural. Great to see it again, Charles, and the last two stanzas are still my favorites.
ReplyDeleteThere's such currency in this poem. I love the weaving of your metaphors which create such a beautiful texture. My favorites:
ReplyDelete"From anonymity I'll send out
my coordinates to be found,
but only naked. My fate launched
by the stars, I'll break loose
of dead end streets and scrawl
graffiti for faceless others
to read..."
Just fabulous!
The sense of vulnerability here is strong and to engage poetry as a reader I think we have to reciprocate that vulnerability. If we do then a sublime space where experience, ideas, and emotional can be exchanged. Beautiful work!
ReplyDeleteA hazy sun melts into gold
ReplyDeleteand umber which trees dip
their bony brushes into
and paint the moon a missal of joy.
I'm a sucker for using nature in imagery and metaphors! I love the whole poem. Wonderful!
I felt myself crawl into that second stanza and burrow until I limped out with the poor bird--being "of the day" is heartening. Loved this poem!
ReplyDeleteHaha, in an email to a poet friend this morning I wrote "I am the queen of fuzz". So you know I love those opening lines.
ReplyDeleteYou captured that "high" in writing ~ My fav lines are:
ReplyDeleteBring me to what can't be bought
with a hardened heart,
to the gift that sits in the sun,
crack winged, broken beaked
flying free through a pane reflecting light.
Sun drips dew drops from the roof
to let me know that I am of the day.
Beautiful... I especially like the last two stanzas.
ReplyDeleteTruly wonderful poem, Charles, from the bundled hand-me-down pants - to the dew drops dripping - lyrical, philosophical, beautifully imaged and itself dripping with light.
ReplyDeleteNow, my query - I am a punctuation artist. I don't know rules as well as I ought, but I like punctuation- there are several places where I would think hyphens would be appropriate - Is the reason to not use them to give a broader sense of meaning- possibility?
It's such a wonderful wonderful poem, and this is a mild issue - and probably my personal bug-a-boo, but I find myself tripping a little at these places, and then wondering if there is an intention behind not using them, or if it is something more casual. I know my interest in punctuation is really not very fashionable - so please don't pay too much attention to my query here, but I am curious. Maybe we should conduct the conversation via email!? Or feel free to comment chez Manicddaily.
Fine work. k.
Heart felt discussion rooted in powerful imagery
ReplyDeleteBring me to what can't be bought
ReplyDeletewith a hardened heart,
to the gift that sits in the sun,
crack winged, broken beaked
flying free through a pane reflecting light.
A touch of genius here. I thought the whole poem was leading up to this - as maybe life should. Fab'!
WOW! Just wow! Brilliant from beginning to end - def a "return to" poem! It's going in my pocket.
ReplyDeleteReally great.....
ReplyDeleteIt's the graffiti that we scrawl for the faceless others that keeps us going...great poem.
ReplyDeleteThese were my favorite lines -
ReplyDeleteFrom anonymity I'll send out
my coordinates to be found
Really enjoyed this!
Beautiful, powerful poem. Like many of your others, while the phrasing is highly polished, the feeling is raw: "Bring me to what can't be bought / with a hardened heart" and "hungry like a poor immigrant, / ironic, cold, and thirsty for truth." Excellent work.
ReplyDeleteso humble and noble at once. this is lovely, C. I'm glad you posted it. Your pieces always seem to confess and instruct on many levels. ~jane
ReplyDeleteyes that silence
ReplyDeleteHow well you describe the poetic life, with images that jump off of the page. I love the idea of giving away poetry as a blessing on humanity. God knows, we're not going to get wealthy...it's more about enriching others.
ReplyDeleteFor me the pinnacle was the penultimate stanza, the bird flying - albeit with broken beak - across a pane of light. That is a radiant metaphor.
ReplyDelete