Fields of Change

3 Comments

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  • Family

    Fields of Change


    Across the chartreuse fields of mustard splashed
    With failing hearts of grain,
    Stand relentless days of summers inexcusable,
    Scoring poverty and pain.

    Rainless cracked; an anvil to the yellow heat which lashes
    Sod in shear distain,
    Each breathe unwelcome as a flame
    To live or die becoming something choosable
    For years the phoenix rests whereof it crashed
    With towered rocks high jacking rain.

    I have my little brother’s heart in hand
    His nappy head nears rest
    I cannot die until there’s nothing losable
    Or there’s nothing more than air he can ingest.
    The draw becomes the drain
    The will to die has emptied all the pain.

    No regret, no disdain
    And God is somewhere waiting-
    To take us … to the shadow of his wing.






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    wheelsal commented on Fields of Change

    06-24-2009

    Wow. I came back to read more of you and I am not disappointed. I agree with Erika. It flowed well until "Distain": Did you mean disdain?

    NevillePark

    06/24/2009

    YES!

    wheelsal

    06/24/2009

    I've done so much worse with typos. I'm glad to find some else human.

    wheelsal

    06/24/2009

    see what I mean "someone"

    wheelsal

    06/24/2009

    Oh yes, one more comment. I read one that smart people have brains that go faster than they can type.

    jademelissa74 commented on Fields of Change

    06-04-2009

    I like the imagery exhibited in this poem. I must agree with you, however, on the usage of "distain". It seems to me, for what I gathered, that you are trying to sharply cut the discoloration of the failing hearts that have faded away through pain. I can relate to this poem. I like it and appreciate it in the way that is written. Great Job! God bless!

    NevillePark

    06/04/2009

    I'll answer you both with the one reply [jade... and light...] I categorize it as one of those that needs revisiting every month or so to see what I wrote and hope for further input from the muse. I can tell you that it is an attempt to break free of the usual rhythm I automatically enter into. It needs work for sure.

    NevillePark

    06/24/2009

    For the most part, those phrases which might garner the label "clever" are for me just a ball with a lucky bounce. The chuckle here my dear is that thanks to my inability to spell I can come up with what my old art teacher used to call ..."happy accidents." Painters have'em - why not writers. All these wonderful comments are clear motivators. So now at the expense of my screenplay I find I'm writing more poetry. Thank you for your comments.

    lightcourier commented on Fields of Change

    05-24-2009

    I liked the descriptive and mysterious...enigmatic parts of the work, but I longed to have snappier meter. Free verse is free verse, but i felt jerked as I was reading. "Inexcusable" in the first verse tripped me. polysyllables are tricky. I would like to see word play like "de stain" in place of distain(sic), so it had another layer to the idea. At any rate, it was good to read. Thanks!

    NevillePark

    06/24/2009

    You're an encourager for sure lightcourier -thanks

    NevillePark

    06/24/2009

    You know ... you always see more you can improve on and I just did. I myself see the merit of contrasting the rhythms to add motion-al drama.I need to go back to the first stanza and repeat the rhythm I think The following verses rush it all to a premature finish. Maybe?

    Poetry comes nearer to vital truth than history.

    Plato (BC 427-BC 347) Greek philosopher.

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