January 14, 2010

Lost (RWP #109)

Something BAD happened with my blog and my original post of this poem was lost...here it is again in all it's bleak and morose glory.

To wait deep in silence
toward such things unseen-
pining for some minute
manna of hope and praise.

To pray for salvation
through sorrowful depths-
slope shouldered, now broken
flesh sundered from spirit.

To surrender, finished
to that slithering beast-
with syrupy poison
your soul now becomes stone.

10 comments:

  1. from Therese Broderick -- The infinitive which starts each stanza "To wait...To pray...To surrender" is very powerful, putting me in the constant state of being "lost." I hope the poem doesn't reflect your actual state of being, Cynthia. Did you read this poem out loud to yourself? The music in it is marvelous!

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  2. I really like the confident tone your narrator takes here, and the phrases which come to closure like sentences, but are not, is very effective, makes the idea of open-endedness, of unresolved turmoil more palpable.

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  3. It's stately. As Therese said, through repetition of the infinitive. This melancholy suits me.
    -Irene

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  4. I like all the snake s alliteration and the syrupy poison in slow drips.

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  5. Hi Cynthia,

    Thanks for reposting. This may be dark and deep but as Therese and Rall say, it has wonderful sounds.

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  6. nicely done....to surrender is hard....but good...thanks for sharing this Cynthia

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  7. sorry to be so late getting to the reading. Very nice, Cynthia. I love the way you use "wait" as an active word--to wait...toward such things.

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  8. What struck me is how you describe the capitulation to something, whatever it is, that seems to chase up and try to devour us...I see it as despair. I liked the "slope shouldered, now broken/flesh sundered from spirit" line the most. Good work, and good use of the words.

    -Nicole

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  9. Love the sounds, and the "slope shouldered" -- what a great picture, in a poem full of atmosphere.

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