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.

EPICANTHUS DREAM

Wipers play
"so young"
and the rivets shake
with the afternoon freight
across Thunderbridge
and a dream shatters
like a breath through
the crystal flakes
braking down from the
ragged clouds
atop the town

the seeking light
its golden rays
catching windows
and sleeping cats
and icy attics
empty of bats

snowflakes pause
on your eyelids
quietly you step
along
past windowshops
and the townhall
clock

the brave ones land
upon the dark and single
strands
of your lash

we can hear the murmur
of the birds on the sash
on third floor rooms to let

as beyond the great hill
full of its mature trees
across heaved feilds
like a frozen sea
the suns rests and sets
in its icy throne

while beneath winter
storms
the dreams will roam

Editing stage: 

Comments

I would take a few of the ands out of this one but other than that another wonderful write,

the seeking light
its golden rays
catching windows
sleeping cats - i would take the *and* out of this line
and icy attics
empty of bats

just showing you what I meant, as always a pleasure :)

love JC xxx

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

I agree with JC. I tend to cut poems down a lot and prune them right back - doesn't mean I'm right though. This is a rough draft though so I suspect this wonderful poem will burst out of it's shell. I really, really like it's form and it's potential. So different, there is love in this poem.

Jenifer

yes remove a few "ands" and work a tad more on this
It is of Love this one.....the unique intolerable desire of intimacy
speaks volumes without a single word at times.......

Thank You

author comment

Love the "sun setting in its icy throne,"
and "heaved fields like a frozen sea."

The sway of winters touch, white and beautiful
against the contrast of the cold.

Love Ann.

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

been reading of the Vikings and the Sami here and there
Library has a great book on Anglo Saxons...chock full of delightful
facts...But you know I prefer the internet and songs
and strange television links and magazine writes
to the brew of what is known...I like to be in the dark
letting the magic of what needs to come to me

I love the NewGrange tomb in Ireland and how the Vikings landed
and settled for a time with Dubliners...the pirates on Iceland like
Malta robbing the churchs and abbeys where the wealth was long ago
reading of the Vikings and Scandanavia and Norway....I truly do have
red hair in my beard and the blue grey eyes flecked with tinges of
small wee colour....

Try to imagine the long winters and fishing and grain harvests
hard hard work...mercenaries in boats like crusaders hauling in
wealth..trading...they built churchs too!! But nature and the mystery
of it....the rawness still after all the settlign through the ages...
Nothing beats the robust cold and mists and steams of our industry
and commerce trucks and buses cars and rail line..the creek talking
to itself like dark brown ink when I walk over the great curve of it..
the snow falling against the large escarpment...and our home
the little collection of well made...tall peaked places on a little knoll
like position//// we cook with gas and heat with it now
safer then wood or coal...but its not hard to imagine cooking with
wood ovens or bread making...

love the old and new

Thank You!

author comment

Another crit: The only weak moment for me here Steven,
was the "will roam" at the end, it sounded a wee bit contrived.

Otherwise, I like this as one of your best poems,
I totally became absorbed by all its elements, and loved it.

What praise would you want? I tip the snowflakes onto
your plate before you, to shine in the rays of the setting sun,
and thank you for writing this poem. Ann.

I came back, and see that Redbeard has appeared again
his hair tousled and his eyes keenly scouring the horizon,
his heart pounding in the heat of the stories of the Nordic
magicians of word, of religions, of poetry, of dramas,
and all the majesty of the ancient art of stones, rises
up to create an image of something fascinating, and
always interesting, in surprise doses-I agree, although
my sister and I were read the Norse Myths, by my mother,
also the Greek ones, they were an important part of our
education she felt.

With the kindergarten children, I made a little play using
the story of a red bearded king/god he met a mountain
in the way, the troll wouldn't let him through on his ship,
but Redbeard commanded the mountain to split in two,
and it did, creating the gap on the way north, beside
the mountain called Hornelen, the highest drop into the
sea, in Europe; and on top of which Old Erik, or
The Devil/troll dances on Midsummer's night.

Ann :) x

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

Epicanthus; a vertical fold of skin on either side of
the nose ... great word there man, at first I couldn't
see it adding to this poem, yet imperfection is what
we are, isn't it !!!

This poem Sir, has to be one of the best poems
I've read in quite a while, such imagery, touch,
downright engaging ... took me there !!!

I personally loved the ending.

thank you Steven

Last line...dreams roam?
Ann o

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

I wake often to take the pups out..Lilly the sharpei either opens the door If I
leave it ajar or scratchs a few times to wake me....In the middle of REM sleep
and a dream I take them out and fall asleep again and sometimes fall back
into the same dream.....The dogs I let out and walk in the dark with the streetlights
the quiet hood for about fifteen minutes...Yet the science says our brains are as active
asleep as awake and many have Dream Journals and many leaders of the past
used dreams for their decision making... Dreams indeed roam...we do not make them
we just catch them ....Like catching a flick!

Thank You

author comment

What i meant was cut out the
the and will in the last line, they
seem buckshee to me!

How nice to hear your little tale
anyway, its a wistful witching hour
in the quiet of the night, isn't it?
I used to love taking the dog out
in the evenings, all weathers,
every evening slightly different
and always with interesting little things
to note. The Native Americans, your people,
catch dreams don't they wolf. Ann.

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

I like your suggestion
More like a clarity thought
then the ultimatum..Dreams WILL roam
sounds political..
hmmm maybe it is..

Thank You Ann

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