Lingering beams of the last winter day
melt snowflakes on the way to my palm.
Clouds align in the mountain sky
Darkening waters reflect mother-of-pearl calm.
Following sheen of the serpentine rail,
climbing and rumbling for miles the train
cuts through the silence of highland terrain,
flooded by shimmering night.
Breathing and trembling in every dry stem,
throbbing in every awakening root,
screeching through me, the night makes
me sing the atonal, arrhythmical song.
Only the train can whistle with it
through happily grinning muzzle
gleaming at me from the distance
with three golden unblinking eyes.
Comments
when I want to compose like you do
I go out for a long walk alone
and sing
thank god no one listens
even scared
the birds fly away
and
I thought you were trekking
when did you compose it
in ur head
amazing for retaining
how was ur trekking
lonely.....
Thank you for reading my poem
Thank you for reading my poem.
This one has a cadance based on Phillip Glass's music I was listening for the last few days.
can you believe it
in the last hour
I have been composing and reading poetry
three wonderful gals
poets
have started following me
I compose silliler ones
says jess
should i confess
your a
classic poetess
softest
Congratulations, my friend
Congratulations, my friend you deserve the best followers
my heart swells
when speaks aloud
a poetess
like Iriz
I haven't composed one
for a long time
for neo poets
Smiling, have a nice evening,
Smiling, have a nice evening, I am leaving now.
THANK you good night.. I forget what is night in ruskee noch????
tired
had a long poetic and MALL ROVING DAY
was all day rain
dobri noch
I say
temporary do svidanya
neyet !
ok khoroshaw
lol
Horosho
Horosho
horosho is night
what a night's plight
I'm catching
tonight's flight
Sorry, I can't help you
I do not see anything awkward in this poem. So it makes me wonder how you define awkward.
There were some points that made me think, for instance, "mother of pearl calm" does not bring an immediate image to mind, but I do get ideas when I think on it. In some poems this would be annoying, but here, those phrases which made me think, I welcomed as kin to the captivating beauty that surrounds them.
As i read more and more of your poems, I find you quite impressive.
Dear Tyro.
Dear Tyro.
This is one of the spots I need help with.
I ment that the water looks like it breathes out a calm colored in mother of pearl color. Does it make sense?
Oh yes, I forgot to mention that I kept working on the poem after the first draft was submitted.
You can see there was more to work on in the initial write. I placed it into the Unfinished workshop.
Hello IRiz
would "serpentine trail" be better in the line below
Following sheen of the serpintine rail,
i notice that there are a few spellos which I am sure you will cleanse during the edits
...............................................................
Hi IRiz
here is an idea, what do you think?
darkening waters give out a calm
in mother of pearl iridescence
thank you for a new word!
Thank you for a new word!
Something is incredibly proper
in the sound of this semitechnical term
to reflect me
I am a shimmering mix of fantasy and scientific terms,
my name hides in between its letters.
Irridesence is not a glow, gleaming or glistening.
It is a peculiar way to reflect light to give it a mother of pearl blur.
Butterflies know about this trick and experimenting artists who likes to turn his workshop into a chemical lab.
It plays on the surface of calm water and stylish sunglasses
on the streets of Georgetown.
It glints in the windows sometimes
thoroughly hiding their secrets behind.
Irridesence is the whimsical queen
of the world floating and whelming
itself.
OK, I know you are a poet,
OK, I know you are a poet, but an instant poem on a new word? I loved it!
I shall never again look at that word in the same light.
Lol. What a fun to talk to
Lol. What a fun to talk to you.
Looking forward to hearing more new words from you
lots of beautiful imagery. (i
lots of beautiful imagery. (i love the image of a snowflake melting before it reaches your hand. the feeling of anticipation, the way nature or life will do what it does despite our desire or expectation. and still be beautiful.) the poem is multifaceted: visual, auditory, even tactile. is this a journey ON a train, or watching the train? makes me think of Murder on the Orient Express (which I saw recently), particularly the serpentine nature of the train. nice poem!
Thank you very much for
Thank you very much for reading it. I spent a bit of time revising so the flow reminds rhythmic sound of a moving train.
I like the movie, it is a bit artificial somewhat like my bucolic write, but the unexpected twist at the end is cool.