Poetry For Our Time

Poetry heals the wounds inflicted by reason. -Novalis

Amen

with 5 comments

We gather in the basement for introductions.

I hardly know what to say to these strangers assembled,

these people trailing stories and pain behind them

like streamers that dance as they speak and cry,

while my own sag behind me, silent.

But when we stand, form a circle —

with eyes closed, hands clasped–

I feel the stir of a breeze, a breath,

rustling us all as we sway, imperceptibly,

in unison.

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Written by cd40

February 4, 2009 at 5:58 am

Posted in Uncategorized

5 Responses

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  1. religious poem eh? or maybe i’m missing the point.

    anyway, i love the “streamers” line. i think it’s pretty true… at least in my experience, disclosing stories of oneself give off a feeling of liveliness in me.

    windfriction

    February 4, 2009 at 6:19 am

  2. yeah and that was totally bad pronoun case there… meh it’s late.

    windfriction

    February 4, 2009 at 6:19 am

  3. I, too, love the streamers line, but I like more the speaker’s stories sagging behind her, silent. It gives a sense of feeling awkward in this religious situation without saying it. Totally relatable.

    I could, however, do without the first line. I think the poem would hold without it. Just a thought.

    crazyenglishteacher

    February 4, 2009 at 1:57 pm

  4. Thanks, guys.

    Ash, I agree that the poem just kind of limps along at first. I think your suggestion is a good one. I’m trying a little too hard to set the stage when one isn’t needed.

    cd40

    February 4, 2009 at 8:17 pm

  5. I keep doing the same thing, which is funny because I always tell my students to start pieces in medias res. I should follow my own advice.

    crazyenglishteacher

    February 4, 2009 at 11:25 pm


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