apparition's unbound

7 Comments

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  • Angst

    Poem Commentary

    I pulled over to take a call and go over some notes, late one afternoon as a storm was approaching. I was next to an oldest cemetery's in the county, I was put on hold and set there as the storm passed through, and watched as the Spanish Moss which hung low moved in the wind.

    apparition's unbound

    In the graying shadows, they await.

    Ray's peeking amidst voids now blue,

    from ageing Oak's in captured pose,

    striking forms of beauty gone grace

    draped from limbs, suspended by time.

    Dancing all a breeze, rising from below,

    graves long emptied, shifting too now fro

    lonely now evermore, neither pleasure anymore.

    Spinning circles, light abates, nebulous shifting's

    emerge from Luna's flickering's, ominous clone's

    swagger's forth, an angst of sky's gone dark,

    nourishing a loneness hunger long felt as evermore 

    Poem Comments

    (7)

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    Marsink commented on apparition's unbound

    04-16-2010

    Your imagery is captivating and walks in these woods! I waited in great anticipation for the appearing of apparitions, and as soon as they emerged, their presence was over...you leave the reader wanting more! 10!

    alb29oclfl

    04/16/2010

    ty

    Dano commented on apparition's unbound

    04-13-2010

    "from ageing Oak's in captured pose"... i can see the oak suspended in its ancient pose... very nicely written

    alb29oclfl

    04/13/2010

    ty

    icu2 commented on apparition's unbound

    04-12-2010

    This has a lovely yet grave feel to it. It makes me envision the mossy trees as elephant-like ghosts. Or ghosts of the past locked in the trees...nice work.

    alb29oclfl

    04/12/2010

    ty

    Teardrops commented on apparition's unbound

    04-07-2010

    To feel alone is natural but to let it engulf you i giving up dont give up . This is a wonderful poem with deep undertones loved it Marie

    SavVySam commented on apparition's unbound

    04-06-2010

    Though the words use is nice the interesting cadence and lyrical elements added yet another dimension to the read! Great job with the setting of the mood, placing us there as well...

    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

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