WHEN THE SUN GOES
The copper sky, I watch.
The sun in the water,
its reflection sinking.
Clouds build
as the heat of the day dies.
A wind is born.
It runs like a wild horse
with a mane of frost.
The day takes off its face.
Saffron blushes away.
Pomegranate red fades to kohl,
fades to indigo.
Behind the face lives black,
and the hungry stars.
When the sun goes.
----
----
oh, horrors... the sun eater!
ReplyDeleteFunny thing is, I read this as poetry (and good poetry at that), but if you were to growl and roar your poems over a driving Metal guitar riff, you'd probably have a hit!
ReplyDeleteLaughingwolf, even worse than the 'sin eaters."
ReplyDeleteSteve Malley, I wouldn't doubt that a lot of my poetry is influenced, at least unconsciously, but the metal music I've absorbed over quite a few years now.
I'm impressed. For me, reading is like watching a stage magician. I know that what he produces is a work of artifice built on years of dedicated craft. But I'm in awe because I don't understand the process, and enjoy the fact that others do. When I think about it, I don't want to. There's no sense out of taking all the wonder and mystery out of life.
ReplyDeleteRegarding your previous post, in some ways, I would gather writing a non-fiction work would be similar to writing a dissertation--same issues of research, linguistic specificity, documentation and attribution--just in another language. It's not unusual for a non-fiction work to take years to gel just right, and for all the minor issues that crop up to fit into the puzzle. You're probably making good time.
Like all the best poetry this has a simplicity that is hard to achieve. Charles, this is evocative beyond measure and beautiful.
ReplyDeleteWow I haven't been here for a while. Like visiting an old friend. And what a post to find. Beautiful and haunting.
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed this, Charles. Simple, yet complex, all wrapped into one. :-D
ReplyDeleteThe fading sun read as a metaphor for aging. Do we hunger more as the colors of make up come off and desire harder in the black facing hard to reach hungry stars?
ReplyDeleteSome yes I think do. Because as we age time in the light of the setting sun gets known to be shorter.
Either way I liked the flow it came along and didn't bomb me with profound words but great meaning.
Though I personally would remove the conjunction in this line
"and the hungry stars"
Liked it a lot Charles. Made me feel a twinge of pain for all you aging old guys. ha ha ha ha ha
Great prose Charles, how soon might we see some more in print?
ReplyDeleteI think in a Ice Giant eating the sun.
ReplyDeleteX-Dell, I think I much better understand the craft of creating prose for a story than creating poetry. It still seems like magic to me too, and sometimes it has fire, and sometimes it falls flat. And yes, I think it is a kind of dissertation. The nonfiction book. But even more involved and convoluted because more general.
ReplyDeleteRichard Godwin, thanks man. That means much coming from you.
Leigh Russell, thank you. Glad you enjoyed.
Tyhitia Green, I started thinking of this when I was coming across the bridge this morning and saw the reflection of the rising son in the water. It germinated throughout the day.
Mark, :). you know they say denial isn't just a river in Egypt! this piece will certainly require some revision at some point.
David J. West, just sold a story today actually, and I'm hoping to have another collection of stuff come out this year. I want to do another novel. I'm hungry for it.
Deka Black, maybe a night dragon!
Good stuff!
ReplyDelete"It runs like a wild horse
with a mane of frost."
Absolutely best description I've heard in a long time. It gives me a chill like the night wind in Montana blowing fiercely through the pines.
It is interesting to note that where you come from and your experience brings aspects into your poems that I would never be familiar enough with to use.
ReplyDeleteExcellent! You are the master of visuals.
ReplyDeleteindeed...
ReplyDeleteEnjoying your fast metaphors and bright images and the melting of one into the other.
ReplyDeleteEeriely beautiful. From beginning to end the words are dark but truthful.
ReplyDeleteCharles, that was just me on my other blog.
ReplyDeleteI'll only say that my favourite non-sequitur is "I like corn flakes. Can you swim?
ReplyDeleteAnd though I love the Welsh, I am charmed by the way they back into things in English, like "my sister, you will not marry. :)
...I think I have been trained beyond my intellect. Everything is a blur. Fortran fades to cobol.
That pot of Melitta!
Jumps ya up. Maybe too good a time at the Superbowl party. More Canadians now watch NFL than our own CFL....Heh. How's that for a non-sequitur?
wow, i do love your play with those fancy colors. my kind of poetry.
ReplyDeleteHaiku stanzas. Nice touch.
ReplyDeleteMetal, no. The sound is dead quiet, the words only thought, not uttered. Hunger projected onto the night sky, when we can feel most vulnerable and lonely.
ReplyDeleteCarole, I kind of thing that was the best line too, and maybe something to build a future poem around.
ReplyDeletepattinase (abbott), I guess that’s why we need writers and poets from all kinds of places and backgrounds. Each one has something unique to offer from their experience and perspective.
Alex J. Cavanaugh, thanks, man. I preciate that.
laughingwolf, yep.
M. M. Fahren, I think this one is pretty flawed but it has something in it I want to work more with.
Aishah, thanks for the kind words, and for stopping by. :)
Ocean Girl, ahh, ! gotcha. :)
ivan, I’ve read a lot of books, both older and newer, that use a different way of phrasing sentences. It’s fun to play with. English isn’t a dead language. It’s a great playground to throw in new stuff, and sometimes bring back old.
SzélsőFa, I appreciate that. Thanks.
BernardL, glad you enjoyed!
Ron, hum, perhaps you are right.
ReplyDeletewonderful!
ReplyDeleteNicely done--I love the cycle of the day...
ReplyDeleteHeather, thanks, I appreciate that.
ReplyDeleteSage, the day cycle is so ingrained in us humans.
Travis Cody, I appreciate that.
"A wind is born.
ReplyDeleteIt runs like a wild horse
with a mane of frost."
That's just awesome hon!
"The day takes off its face." That is perfect.
ReplyDeleteI agree with Steve Malley - it could be the lyrics to a song. Reminds me of something Led Zeppelin would perform.
Lana, thank you baby. I thought you might like that line.
ReplyDeleteJennifer, high praise indeed. thank you.