Join the Neopoet online poetry workshop and community to improve as a writer, meet fellow poets, and showcase your work. Sign up, submit your poetry, and get started.

Awareness

Time stands still.
Regress:
The pale light of a future past.

The helpless, the tormented, the hapless
rejoice in regress.

Embrace the cosmic fire
and learn to dream
in a constant state of denial,
while keeping the mind awake!

Time stands still.
Regress:
The pale light of a future past.

The helpless, the tormented, the hapless
rejoice in regress.

And in the end,
the Sun is shining for the dead,
caressing the raindrops, impaling the soil,
thus drowning all heartbeats
in an ocean of red.

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Editing stage: 

Comments

Metaphysics in inevitably linked to logic, and poetry inevitably linked to emotion. Where they meet is a slippery slope.
As so so many poets, I also play with these unlikely partners of dance, and so get the intent. I feel the last stanza hits a nice chord, with rich word play and eerie images to reach the poetic imagination. I do not think it carries the whole poem...

I feel the rest of poem teases me with abstraction that I just can't grasp the whole of. It consists of statements that are not qualified. How does time, a concrete concept in an abstract infinity, stand still? "Future past" reminds me of the greatest of modern metaphysical works, Four Quartets, which I'm sure you know. There are too many ideas here - denial, awaking, the helpless... each of these could be a separate poem in which to weave in a poetry that was achieved in that stanza.To me, in this most difficult task you are working with, in such a short poem, the best is to find the connections through images, as in the very fine last stanza.
I am most guilty of similar attempts, and continue to do so. It's in the blood. Please take my comments with that in mind.
...

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

Thank you for your well-crafted, straight-to-the-point comment!
I haven't had the time to deliver a proper reply until now.

You're right when say "There are too many ideas here - denial, awaking, the helpless...
each of these could be a separate poem in which to weave in a poetry that was achieved in that stanza"...,
I'll try to add some more reflective, non-frugal touch to it.
This too will be a song, this being the reason why I tackled with so many ideas on the run.
I also intended to guide the reader through a sequence of fast changing landscapes,
sort of like when you're having a revelation.
It nonetheless requires a more steady approach, so I'm still working on it.

Cheers,
Ionut Popa

author comment

Knowing that this will be a song, I understand the repetitions. Maybe a bit overloaded with images, but I'll have to return to comment more. Enjoyed.

*
*
*
"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

(c) Neopoet.com. No copyright is claimed by Neopoet to original member content.