Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

.
they have been scattered
by wild winds, currently
relocated, later to be discovered

buried underground and broken
through with new stem and bloom

these, my lost siblings,
those who used to water gardens
with ink

and i, down before
a haze, reach the edge
of the tip of the sky

a lengthy horizon
misdirected arrow
ungrounded
down to prepare
a bed to bud, a
raked lanscape

up to dawn on an idea

we gather scattered
silences like myths,
mindset adrift on a jazz
excursion, striking land
with machine-gun love...

scatatatatat! scatatatatat!
SCAT! ellafitzed 'n' blues-
splattered

one arrived
two emerged
spring now, harvest soon
after a dormant delay

undiminished major tones
electro-magnetic notes

a perfect day
you, being
the music in it
.

.

moongloom sonata with symphonic reflex orchestration
notes stung like gossamer pearlescence on a web
strung from there and then to hear and now
like a reef not knotted rope bridge
heart over mind; mind over heart
and then the mist softly swayed in tandem
as jupiter became mars

.

I found this in my "poems in progress" folder. I started writing it several years ago. I have no idea what it means or where I was going with it, but thanks for reading and for your comments. If you figure out whether it means anything, let me know. Hah!

Why did I post it? I don't know. Poetry was pouring out of me for 3 months then all of a sudden it stopped, so I was looking through my "poems in progress" folder which has a LOT of pieces in it, and picked this one to finish but it never happened, so I posted it anyway.

Maybe sometimes the whole purpose of poetry is the journey, void of any particular specific meaning. All poems affect every reader differently. I think. I hope.

Dan, I'm glad it meant something to you.
Wylde... that's a really gorgeous image and thanks for the poem in reply.

"A poem is never finished, only abandoned." - Paul Valery

"we gather scattered"

Lot of truth in this. Universal type. Good stuff.

"scatatatatat! scatatatatat!
SCAT! ellafitzed 'n' blues-
splattered"

Lots of truth in this too. Universal type. Just don't like it as much.

I think with a little work, this is could be a really good poem.

68degrees

Maybe this is the whole poem:

we gather scattered
silences like myths,

mindset adrift on a jazz
excursion, striking land
with machine-gun love...

scatatatatat! scatatatatat!
SCAT! ellafitzed 'n' blues-
splattered

undiminished major tones
electro-magnetic notes

a perfect day

you, being
the music in it

If the ending is that whole poem, this is another one

they have been scattered
by wild winds, currently
relocated, later to be discovered

buried underground and broken
through with new stem and bloom

these, my lost siblings,
those who used to water gardens
with ink

the stanzas that follow may fit also. I got lost a little in them but that doesn't mean they are wrong---or maybe you may want to revise them---or not. Enjoyed the unusual thought-provoking lines

Thanks, Dan...

I don't know what I meant by "my lost siblings/ those who used to water gardens/ with ink." ... Perhaps I started writing it in spring following one of the deaths of writer friends of mine? I don't know. I don't remember. But if it's not approachable to even me, as the writer, it definitely needs revision.

Maybe you're right.... it's 2 poems. Or... maybe it's 3!

I sort of liked the revision I posted last night, eliminating many of the lines, but perhaps I can do something with the ones I eliminated.

Sometimes my "in progress" poems are more like notes, glimpses of imagery that pop in my head that I think fit together somehow.

It's interesting to me that I even keep such a folder of "poems in progress", because I'm primarily a spontaneous writer, meaning it usually just pours out of me, and I edit AS I write, then edit again prior to recording or performing. I rarely revisit the "poems in progress" folder, but sometimes use it to read a few and grab a line or two for inspiration during dry times when I'm blocked.

Thanks again for your feedback! Appreciated!

Dan,
On second read of the lines you quoted, I agree... that might be another poem there, as you said. I'm going to keep it as a separate file. Reads like writer friends died and were buried, their lives recycled into blooming gardens. Thanks again.

I like thinking about writer's watering gardens with their ink ( perhaps their blood), but at least their life-force....it's cool to think that all that came before is tended to by lovers of lush gardens....