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Dynamics Of Me

I am a still life a bowl of fruit
...or flowers in array

nothing unsettling
or startling
nothing to turn from
or linger upon

...of yesterday
...or a thousand yesterdays past

changes percieved
glance to glance
derive solely from
the commotion within yourself

I am still
I am fixed

quietly afloat in that which is eternal

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 


the contrast between a still life and life is effective but for some reason line 14 doesn't quite click. I think an adjective for motion may be needed but it could just be me .......scribbler

you are probably right. These kind of poems (metaphysical themes) are extremely hard to make clear
I'm always second guessing myself on how to approach them ( or even if I should). Most of these types have to be understood intuitivly, if understood at all...but I'll keep trying, simply because it is my turf (so to speak!).

I appreciate your no nonsense approach to critquing and your always useful comments.

anyway, glad to hear from you again and for the opportunity to read your poems. They are always a pleasure.


author comment

very beautiful write al
nothing at all to crit
love the title


'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)

I see you there floating in the eternal dust of this life, this universe, a speck and yet reading the poem you take on the dimensions of a greater part than that of a dust speck; and take our minds, and hands, to lead us to the quiet spot where there is this continuity of peaceful existence, despite all the commotion that takes place around us.

Just lovely, like the grey beautiful mist outside my window at the moment, shrouding all with the pencilled drawings of the trees only just visible close to, that wistful stillness and yet the slowly, slowly driving of the grey veil of the mist, going on forever, changing and becoming, becoming and not.

This array of words is indeed an arrangement of the most delicately lovely flowers, love to you from Ann of Norway.

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

I so much appreciate your thoughts and the way you deliver them...beautiful musical quality
sorry for the lateness of this reply....


author comment
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