November 1, 2011

Summer’s light licks equinoctial edges
darkness sparks
the seven stars of the Great Bear
prick the black
colours fall through
in stop motion painting
green fades leaves.

Autumn folds
crisp octavo sheet sky
leaning light dances
in figures of eight
ad infinitum
words blaze
raining damp red ash
upon bare silence.

Light flees
and falls short
sleeping on cold unforgiving benches
stained with impatience
the congealed blood
of depression’s wound
sutured by time’s thread
I count the muses
all over again.

Naked trees
puncture stillness
moments move slowly past me
this cold is thin and veined
white falls in distant decibels
the solstice tolls
snow covers the flames
of a former me
now I begin to start.

(taking part in Open Link Night week sixteen – http://dversepoets.com )

23 Responses to “Embers”

  1. wow…nice use of words…the bang bang imagery….the hard words here and there make you stop like that stop motion camera…great last line too…

  2. ChasingTao said

    An interesting and unique way of painting summer as it moves to autumn, and autumn as in merges with winter.

    Your use of descriptive and sensing words have woven a tapestry of many thoughts, colours, designs and dark threads. Quite enjoyable.

    Thanks for sharing,
    Roger ☺

  3. kelly said

    yes, love that ending. and this “Naked trees
    puncture stillness” yes, i can see it, hear it, feel it.

  4. Naked trees puncture stillness… brilliant


  5. zumpoems said

    Great command of words and beautiful writing! Like thie metaphorical metamorphosis from summer to autumn to winter!

  6. claudia said

    love the last line…drives it all home..and made me re-read with different eyes..great images and tight beat

  7. Peter, I find this the most lovely poem of yours I have read thus far, and the final stanza is particularly fine..impressed…

  8. grand words here.. the imagery you created was stunning! great flow with every stanza brings it all together

  9. snow covers the flames
    of a former me

    I hope that you aren’t really sleeping on a park bench somewhere — too many actually are, these days!

    Once your fires are damped down, I wonder what new beginning you will find. I like the way your ending leaves us with that uncertainty as the wheel of the seasons turns.

  10. ayala said

    great lines….the end is just perfect.

  11. Wonderful images in the folding octavo sheet sky, the stains of impatience, the falling white, and the possible meanings of that final “start”.

  12. Hi, I’m new to this blog, found you at dverse, and WOW! The imagery of motions – “prick the black,” “puncture stillness,” along with you use of color throughout made this a portrait as well as a poem. Applause from a new friend, Amy Barlow Liberatore

  13. Pervagus said

    A lovely painting of the changing seasons. Crisp and precise. Great choice of vocabulary, really makes it stand out. Good job.

  14. kamana said

    Naked trees
    puncture stillness
    moments move slowly past me
    … loved this… and then the last line is great!

  15. You’ve raised the bar again, an astounding poem.

  16. hobgoblin2011 said

    Great read, really some awesome moments in here, totally resonate emotionally with much of it. Amazing images displayed with unique tone and consistency. Great read, thanks

  17. The embers are where the heart is….beautiful descriptive lines….’I count the muses” – really like that.

  18. I love the feel of this… foreboding, yet there is a glimmer toward the end, though, I dig the stark dispair of the last stanza…well, until that last line (which is fabulously optimistic) ~

  19. Mama Zen said

    “the congealed blood
    of depression’s wound”

    Love this.

  20. Ahh.. ! Very powerful and your imagery is outstanding..

    “the congealed blood
    of depression’s wound
    sutured by time’s thread”

    I could relate to this so much…
    Thanks for sharing..

    ॐ नमः शिवाय
    Om Namah Shivaya

  21. Wow, Peter….so many wonderful images flowing for me in this piece!

    I always feel there are secrets held between your words : ) This one had me thinking of calendars and time, infinite, or otherwise.

    ‘autumn folds
    crisp octavo sheet sky’ (pages of autumn’s calendar flipping)
    ‘leaning light dances
    in figures of eight’ (infinity)

    Amazing poetry : )) *big sigh*

  22. rebirth, letting go, this piece has many layers.


  23. this is very powerful,
    it makes me realize how words impact us and how we shall appreciate our freedom of expression in poetry.


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