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Midnight Courage

`

I love the wee and trippy hours of an
after-midnight when that glass slipper
lays glistering aloof, in soft moonlight
while weary dreamers poise inked quills
to carve their thoughts onto pale parchment
from a woozy head -- too early in the day
to be about one's inescapable routines
too late of a night to do all else but swoon.

This is the cherished witching-hour in a life
where most everything is held, transfixed
in the baffling clarity of glad cerebration--
intoxicated Muses dance in celebration.

`
_____________________________________________________
"Cinderella Dreaming"
( original version )

The birthing of articulated expression
will always find its means of entering
into the world outside and beyond
the inner recesses of our awareness:

I love the wee and trippy hours of the
after midnight, when the glass slipper
lay glimmering aloof in the moonlight
and the weary dreamer sets some
ink of thoughts onto the parchment
of a woozy head - too early in the day
to be about one's inescapable routines
too late in the night to do but dream.

This is the witching hour in a life
where most everything is transfixed
in the baffling clarity of cerebration,
the muses dancing in glad celebration.

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Last few words: 
The birthing of articulated expression will always find its means of entering into the world outside and beyond the inner recesses of our awareness:
Editing stage: 

Comments

It is exactly what I see, you have somehow connected to my thoughts and put them on paper. I'm happy and upset all at once, because you stoled my thoughts and wrote them down first. Good for you my friend.
Great title to boot
that I did not have.
Eddie C.

LIFE ISN'T ABOUT WAITING FOR THE STORM TO PASS
IT'S ABOUT LEARNING HOW TO DANCE IN THE RAIN.
VIVIAN GREENE

That is the best and scariest comment one can give and receive.
When a poem stole my heart and sole I had to find their ransom.
What I can say is write out your poem anyway and allow your
Muse his/her full expression. Then, it is done. If you look in any
neopoeter's filing cabinet, there would be many, many poems
that will never be posted up here but they got written anyways,
as it should be. So, put them on paper. The unborn poem is
already a poem that deserves an external expression. :-)

__________________________________________________
'Break, break break on thy cold grey stones, O Sea.'

author comment

I was just kidding about having written anything like this. It"s just when I read it I like it sooo
much, That I wished I had the talent to write something as beautiful as this. no worries!
Eddie C.

LIFE ISN'T ABOUT WAITING FOR THE STORM TO PASS
IT'S ABOUT LEARNING HOW TO DANCE IN THE RAIN.
VIVIAN GREENE

It lies right inside of you.
A poet is like a sculpture that has to be revealed by the whittling out of the material that surrounds.
Often the poem is whole and has to be dressed up by the poet as the Muse so directs.
And you know how I take self denigration very seriously... hahaha... so kid me not that way again...
Stay true brother, it is your most prized possession. :-)

__________________________________________________
'Break, break break on thy cold grey stones, O Sea.'

author comment

Wow. Your second and third stanzas really bring home your intent and absolutely bowled me over. "The wee trippy hours" and "glimmering aloof in the moonlight" really set the stage. I wonder if Cinderella ...? Well never mind.

I had a tough time with the first stanza and had to read it a couple of times to allow it to grab me. "The birthing of articulated expression" - I wonder if that could be worded differently, maybe less intimidating?

I don't know. I just know that once I figured out exactly where you were headed in the second stanza, I was IN.

I enjoyed this very much.

Thank you. ~Pamela

.. .

~"It's ALL about the Poetry~

Please join us in The Shark Pool

from which the whole poem hangs from and finds its being... the birthing of articulated expression.
and yes, Cinderella may have had a slip of the foot.... "losing" the slipper to allow start of a continued connection.

__________________________________________________
'Break, break break on thy cold grey stones, O Sea.'

author comment

Cinderella Dreaming
Submitted by crypticbard on Wed, 2011-04-13 20:49
`

The birthing of articulated expression
will always find its means of entering
into the world outside and beyond
the inner recesses of our awareness:

I love the wee and trippy hours of the
after midnight, when the glass slipper
lay glimmering aloof in the moonlight
and the weary dreamer sets some
ink of thoughts onto the parchment
of a woozy head - too early in the day
to be about one's inescapable routines
too late in the night to do but dream.

This is the witching hour in a life
where most everything is transfixed
in the baffling clarity of cerebration,
the muses dancing in glad celebration.

`

__________________________________________________
'Break, break break on thy cold grey stones, O Sea.'

author comment

This is beautiful I am so glad you posted your original version ...

sigh a really good poem I am glad I didnt miss :))

love JC xxx

("Always and Forever") - (Never lose a holy curiosity.-Albert Einstein)

I've been 'spring cleaning' on my poems. Not much else to do as we watch for the Bremer and Brisbane peak of their flood waters. We have since relocated from our flood stricken abode of 2011 to higher ground on the other side of the Woogaroo. I had to take some medication to stop the swelling on my skin - I had a panic attack and got all blotchy. It was like I was there again. Must be post traumatic stress kicking in. I just wish that I didn't have to work tomorrow. :-)

The original version is herein posted to allow some basis of comparison and appreciation of the process and journey of the poem. It was birthed from an inspiration of a NSW poet named Kathleen. I wonder where she is these days.

__________________________________________________
'Break, break break on thy cold grey stones, O Sea.'

author comment

I have been working on a lot of old poems some didn't need much more others well they needed stripping and totally rewriten ... i dont know that you ever stop editing poems well for me anyway, I had a poem I never thought I would do anything with but I ended up putting a word here and a comma there they are never put to bed for me until they are published

its still raining here we are expecting floods dont know if it will be minor or major the rain and wind hasnt let up so who knows ... I am so glad you aren't stuck in the water again sorry about the flare up but coming so close to the last flood I can imagine how its going to affect you .. we get flooded in but so far the water hasnt reached our house it got within 10 metres the last flood

take care up there we are all thinking of everyone in Qld I have friends and family up there as well.

love Jayne-Chloe xxx

("Always and Forever") - (Never lose a holy curiosity.-Albert Einstein)

that seem to be set in stone. And seem to have reached their final form. Those give me closure and a sense of accomplishment. "Completed" is their stamp, no further work required.

And there are some poems that keep asking to be tweaked with each visit when the season for visiting and opening the "treasure chest" arrives again. I have had some published poems that after reading them needed a jot here and a tittle there. OMG!

The floods this year have been nowhere near the levels of the last one (2011). There was a sigh of relief this morning as it was expected to peak overnight. Some schools didn't open today and the clean up is quite swift and not as painful.

Now I go to nurse a headache and exhaustion, from working and helping out some flood victims.
Cheerio!

__________________________________________________
'Break, break break on thy cold grey stones, O Sea.'

author comment

and perhaps
you may permit me to borrow your mind ...
to relish such beautiful poetry

in the middle of the night
ere Cinderella leaves
but a wee bit... more ....if she could have had..

loved

to loan or to let, to lease my cerebral set
betwixt the night afore the rising of the sun
causes many a poet to leave their slipper in the rush
and in the hush of nocturnal symphony
the writer's pen reveilles in cacophony.

__________________________________________________
'Break, break break on thy cold grey stones, O Sea.'

author comment

i can visualise
your instant response
as if twere about to ooze ...
I composed a poem on your muse
but the internet refused..
it blacked out
as it said
how dare you

loved

post it up, SOON!

__________________________________________________
'Break, break break on thy cold grey stones, O Sea.'

author comment

and as i was about to copy it
the lights crashed
my bty too failed
or else i squoozed....
a wrong ball
ahahaha

BT the instantly what my memory could recall
i posted one here and as a poem too
comment both places
will you!!!

loved

to enjoy your poetry
I had to take some time off

to visit Google helper
to help improve my vocabulary
though I through cerebral powers
understood the import
but confirmation of the insider’s views had to be sought
ere I commented with an iced intelligence

I must say a poet must ensure
that dwarfed minds like mine
need not borrow
greater ones' ..
in order to relish the wee moments
as they burst in ecstasy
the desire of any muse

you Sir are one such one
who’d like to ensure
slippers are not found here and there anymore
notwithstanding Cinderella

loved

the slipper signifies a state and a venue
wherein the writer is free to be and do
and thus allows the creative process to flourish!

__________________________________________________
'Break, break break on thy cold grey stones, O Sea.'

author comment

infer friend...
one of creation of poetry
or
procreation ..which is natural outcome..
thanks for clarifying slipper .. context..

thanks for sharpening it

loved

the main difference between creation and procreation is an average 9-month wait!
Give or take.
To me they are both natural outcomes and poems are a sort of offspring.
Which is why I would rather people treat them well.

I have yet to find a metaphor for the male readers, the slipper would it seem
just fly over their head
as if a rabid spouse or girlfriend hurls a shoe at an errant man!

Maybe a howling wolf would do the trick
as a context for the moonlit sky
when the nocturnal forest is alive
and churning verse upon verse upon verse.

What do you think?

__________________________________________________
'Break, break break on thy cold grey stones, O Sea.'

author comment

asks a haggard guy
hows the dress he's wearing
you seek my advice
it makes me smile
wait a while
laugh if you please ..
now you may say cheese.

loved

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