The dawn is malleable, a molten tree
whose rooted membrane nourishes
the passionate embrace of the clay below.
Anarchic, red, and ecstatic, the sun
escapes my brain with a desire
for fullness and the shadow of dream.
The friction and wetness of orgasm
drive me to right and wrong,
the jars of righteousness filled with an oil
that salves loss and subdues with joy.
Despair's smell is a presence startling in clarity,
as the wick in the lamp pulsates to the rhythm
of one choosing to be who one is to be.
When the film ends, and the train
of consciousness detaches from the helix,
when the flash of light and rushing sound
imprint being on cinder walls, and burn
an unforgiving sign as caress through ash.
Then the gaze that defines, the penetrating face
to face of one I do not know, questions
the silence I impose on space and time.
(c) copyright Charles David Miller. All rights reserved.
Fabulous poem, in my opinion, I particularly like 'Despair's smell is a presence startling in clarity'!!! And that last verse captures the almost existential breadth of these great lines. I love it. I will read it many more times and no doubt find many other joys...
ReplyDeletethis is awesome...the key for me was....as the wick in the lamp pulsates to the rhythm
ReplyDeleteof one choosing to be who one is to be...these are the worlds that are just a breath away and we have to decide again and again...
Great word choices and stanza broken just in the right places for my liking. What I like most here is the directness of the Narrative Voice; the honesty of a emotionally intelligent yet certainly masculine voice delivering some very poetic lines.
ReplyDeleteSartre would have adored this piece, as to I. I like the line /when the film ends, and the train of consciousness detaches from the helix/ and for me the poem throbs with positive energy, that each day, perhaps each moment we struggle to fully perceive ourselves in each moment, and we have infinite new beginnings to experience.
ReplyDeleteThis is very good, echoing all that was said above, and adding a 'wow'!
ReplyDeleteSuch an interesting and beautiful poem, for me, the first fpurvstanzas especially compelling. K.
ReplyDeletethere are so many parts to this poem that I love. Going between the worlds of the mind, sensation and knowing but not knowing. Cool,
ReplyDeleteReading again with the title in mind this time-- i sometimes gloss over titles-- and a whole new understanding opens. Wonderful, kind of awful too. K.
ReplyDeleteCharles, when I read this again, I actually see it as an experience in old Times' Square NYC in a porn theater. Is this totally off the mark? No one's mentioned it and maybe obvious (or maybe this is just the way my mind works), but I am just curious to see if I've understood. Certainly an alien landscape. It is such a good poem. k.
DeleteKarin, The Broadway Limited is an Amtrak train that runs from NYC to the West Coast. I was on Spring Break and rode it east to my parents' place. On the train, I met someone who gave me some heavu duty LSD. Most of the imagery comes from hallucinations I had. I had written a short prose piece about the experience, but I rewrote the experience in poetry when I was going thru my divorce. So I superimposed my emotions then onto the previous experience. Have never been to a porn house on Broadway, but maybe in the future? :)
Deleteintriguing title man...love all the grit in the description within you poem...the sun escaping my brain, ha nice way to put that...despair having a smell...that whole stanza i think is my fav....good stuff charles...
ReplyDeleteWow...This is a fabulous write
ReplyDeleteI really like
'When the film ends, and the train
of consciousness detaches from the helix'
and, the last stanza are just really...wow!
I love S3 and S4.
ReplyDeleteThe ending is superb. Sometimes we go through times in our lives when our images seem so alien. Excellente!
ReplyDeleteThe first two stanzas really enforce a feeling of the familiar twisted in an alien way, a post-nuclear sunrise, or a post-madness one, then the poem drifts into the alien we all carry within us, the life/lives that we seek, build and destroy to define it. I esp like the ending --the bomb blast--with its unusual commingling of choice and inevitability. Sorrow and joy, lostness, confusion and certainty--all kinds of emotions filter through this to the reader.
ReplyDeletegotta ditto some of the comments above, as the first word to come to mind was "intriguing" -
ReplyDeleteand my fav line is,
"the wick in the lamp pulsates to the rhythm
of one choosing to be who one is to be"
i'm still stuck in slippery ground as to the whole meaning, too dense and rich for to get in one read
also really liked,
"the passionate embrace of the clay below"
nice work charles, thanks! ;-)
read it a few times and i love the first graph but my favorite was the second to last.
ReplyDeletei picked up fragments recently have read your stuff a number of times, especially ritual. your stuff is tremendous.
Beautiful, well-written poem, Charles. It was carrying me away right to the point where it slapped me in the face with that it was describing a movie. Love that ending, the contrast between a dreamy other world of the senses and the sharpness of reality.
ReplyDeleteExcellent write, very cleansing in its bleakness. Very professional stuff here!
ReplyDeleteA film? a porno-flick? maybe something by Win Wenders? maybe a life? Cinder is left, ash, and a "face to face" with a Sartrian-look that troubles the narrator, questions him (?) too much. How dare that stranger break into the intensity of the moment, the duration, that was just . . . ! That's how I traveled your lines and stanzas. I have no idea if I read what you wrote or only my associations, but I totally enjoyed the experience and took my time in it! Thank you.
ReplyDeleteI echo so much of what has already been said ... feel, as many did, that this is very philosophically attuned to Sartre (hope we're not so far off-base as to be pissing you off here) - your work is profound and somewhat enigmatic and I find myself going back to read and re-read; there are not many poets I can say that about ...
ReplyDeletehttp://aleapingelephant.blogspot.ca/2012/06/honouring-dead-and-encounters.html
Great write Charles. Lots of wonderful thought imagery here and the last two stanzas are very, very good. Thanks for hosting, and loved the write-up, and the fact you brought up Borges was such a cool bonus for me, he's always been in my top five favorite authors. Thanks
ReplyDeleteThis is great from first to last, but for me this verse
ReplyDeleteWhen the film ends, and the train
of consciousness detaches from the helix,
when the flash of light and rushing sound
imprint being on cinder walls, and burn
an unforgiving sign as caress through ash.
is outstanding. Fine work indeed.
Brilliant imagery and word crafting. Very palpable.
ReplyDeletePeace
This is amazing, Charles!!!
ReplyDeleteSo many have said what I would say, Charles. You really allow the reader to share the experience and emotions. Your prompt has evoked so many excellent response, this right up there at the top.
ReplyDeleteWhoa, when the film ends...that's good, like that. And cinder ash and consciousness and the wick in the lamp, we've all stared at that one, but you gave it a heart beat or rhythm anyway. Good.
ReplyDeletegardenlilie.com
I'm wrapped in a web of words, like the caterpillar to the butterfly, stretching the web, ingesting fantastic imagery, busting through to a poetic metamorphoses...outta this world!
ReplyDeleteThe train detaching from the helix... One of my favourite parts. Looking at it with the title n the frame too it kind of takes me back to The Graduate and Simon & Gwrfunkel... Don't know why, sorry, that wasn't in the plan and is more a sign of my wandering mind than your wonderful poetry!
ReplyDeleteLovely work Charles. The inner reflections of yourself, captured in this specific time and space, is very evident in this poem. I specially like 5th stanza ~
ReplyDeleteI like it, it has depth - thanks for hosting and for your thoughts on the faeries
ReplyDeleteThis feels very "earthy" and raw to me...like the sensations and textures are really being experienced to the max!
ReplyDeleteLove it! Has a feel of despair yet brings the hope of change along for the ride. If this is a piece written over 30 years ago, it holds up VERY well!Challenges a lot of the crap passed off as poetry today.
ReplyDeletenow here is an interesting line --
ReplyDeleteThe friction and wetness of orgasm
drive me to right and wrong,
Hiya Chaz,
ReplyDeletethere seems to be _09 missing from the Blenza Link for your next post. And the comment page is sputtering. Just wanted to say that the sarai post intrigued me trmendously, although I am always behind in comprehension :-(