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A hound carved.

Submitted by vandiemenspeak on Mon, 2018-04-23 07:00

Bare the brittle bones of night
let them eat. those that sleep
won't mind

Let the rumble clatter of timber
combust in its iron cage,
while one slaves

Let the other sleep, and whimper
dreams of running deep
into woods

While you cover strange ground
while the sleeper, sound
investigates the nocturne territory

Of a night, you once found,
once shared,
now a gnarled possession

A bone flint impaired by joint memory
let then, the night compare, while
one whittles words

Let the other sleep, sleep
and if the night uncovers, those dreams
loam deep, clay formed, long lost

Claimed by tenured time, and all
the frost, well- let them lie
and in the morning uncover

All the where, the why and the cost
of night, as the lost of day,
as one to the other, we relay.

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Last few words: 
Raw observation of sleeping in a hut - Cradle Mountain.
Editing stage: 
Editing - rough draft

Comments

chevyvent

Mon, 2018-04-23 14:52

chevyvent's picture

Bare the brittle bones of night
let them eat. those that sleep
won't mind", brilliant composition really made you think then it wandered into sleep.. sleep.
Great words of personification really hits home you have here very nicely done

Mario Vitale

vandiemenspeak

Tue, 2019-06-11 07:02

vandiemenspeak's picture
Volunteer badge

Sorry I hadn't replied, I thank you for your feedback. There is a song that hanys my dreams by Augie March "Time is a bastard" - look it up.
Cheers,

Chris.

Chris Hall - Tasmania

Grossbooted draymen rolled barrels dullthudding out of Prince's stores and bumped them up on the brewery float. On the brewery float bumped dullthudding barrels rolled by grossbooted draymen out of Prince's stores.

author comment

Eumolpus

Mon, 2018-04-23 21:32

Eumolpus's picture

Yes I once stayed in Cradle Mt and took a canoe in the lake at the dawn. Nice spot on the planet.
I like very much the narrative of the dog and you in that spot, the nice way you engage us with the dog, yourself and sleep. Nice language, your calling card.,
In the end I'm looking for the conclusion of this dialogue of dream and memory, and am being led to it;;

in the morning uncover

All the where, the why and the cost
of night, as the lost of day,
as one to the other, we relay.

night as the lost of day... i just keep playing with that in my head in reference to the poem, and don't see the relationship in terms of a "cost" as you present it. I think that's the image on stuck on. Cost is a payment is real terms, it requires sacrifice, spending what is yours and not giving of it
freely. It would seem from the poem, to me, it is the gift of night, not the cost, that the subjects in the poem share. Am I totally reading this wrong?
BTW, come visit my work from time to time, i lovingly read your poems...check out mine and speak your mind!

Eumolpus
I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings

vandiemenspeak

Tue, 2019-06-11 07:00

vandiemenspeak's picture
Volunteer badge

The great forests that they promised not to log. I can only share this with you:

https://www.echo.net.au/2019/06/call-halt-old-growth-logging-tasmania/

I will read now with love and respect, your work. Thank you, and forgive my tardiness, I shall try and wrinkle more time out of these tech slave drivers.

Cheers,

Chris.

Chris Hall - Tasmania

Grossbooted draymen rolled barrels dullthudding out of Prince's stores and bumped them up on the brewery float. On the brewery float bumped dullthudding barrels rolled by grossbooted draymen out of Prince's stores.

author comment
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