Muse for Monday

  •  
  •  

The Other Side of the Coin

Last week’s coin toss loser is featured tonight. Not to say this one is not deserving, but the celebratory nature of the other poem just happened to win out over one which flowed onto the paper sans writer’s block. Neither one is a close fit to what is normally featured on Mantra’s night.

Why don’t we move?

More recently, Mantra has decided my point of view is not from whence I should be writing. This shift in perspective marks a new period in my poetry and is reflective of the self-discovery theme of M3 on the whole.

The engagement of repetition is also new to my poetry, as I rarely write anything which resembles lyrical poetry… ever. While this one is not what I would consider song material, strictly by the subject matter and length, its cadence lends itself to a three-piece band with a serious bass line and paradiddles or rimshots. And now that my train of thought has left the track…

Finding the Way is the title. Where the way goes and why is the crux. Let’s journey on, shall we? The question at the end is not our usual bank of What did you feel? or What did you hear? There are plenty sounds and lots to feel (as in touch) in this one. I am seriously resisting the urge to poison your brains with textures, so if you would like to volunteer them in the comments… I am interested.

Consider the layers in this poem detours.

Can’t read the map…

Finding the Way

Holding tightly
But know not to what.
Squinting against
The glaring light.

Can’t read the map,
Its edge still furled.
Finding the way,
Skirting the fright.

Spectres moan,
And wolves bay harsh,
Seeking to feed
In the darkest night.

Running faster.
To where? Mystery.
Finding the way,
‘Neath the moonlight.

Going alone
To roll back the stone.
Feeling inside,
Absent the light.

Wrapping the shroud
Ever so tight.
Finding the way,
Making all right.

030220120006

Tonight’s question is very simple: What is the way?

PS The poll is coming to a close. Please vote if you have not already. Your answers are very different from those I got in person…


© Red Dwyer 2012
Reblogging of this or any other post on The M3 Blog is expressly forbidden.
Copyright and Privacy Policy available in The Office.
Content Protection by DMCA.com
Leave a comment

28 Comments

  1. Nice poem Red. I love the rhythm. 🙂

    Reply
  2. Ooops, sorry I didn’t notice that last part. Ummm….I was always lousy at trying to interpret the meaning of poetry, but this one leads me to a buried treasure…whatever a “treasure” is to you, to go out and get it. 🙂

    Reply
  3. authormjlogan

     /  February 20, 2012

    I hear someone in a bad place (mentally, spiritually) finding their way back to what was good and light in their lives.

    Reply
  4. This is likened to one of my creepy offerings, out in the wilderness all alone and looking for something, could it be lost treasure as Wendy has suggested, or is it the dark and sinister shadows edging forever closer as the light flickers, and the Wolf howls…

    I really like your poem Red but as to its meaning I must be losing the thread on things this evening / morning as I am just not firing on all cylinders at the moment, perhaps a coffee and a snack will help? 🙂

    Have a very nice
    rest of evening Red 🙂 😉

    Androgoth XXx

    Reply
    • Do have a cuppa. Just poured on which is King Cake flavored, as Mardi Gras is upon us. Both the light and the darkness play an equal role in this one. I though you would like it.

      Have a terrific morning, Andro.
      Red.

      Reply
  5. Not even up to interpreting or anything else while still dealing with my dad, but I enjoyed it. I finally have access to internet at my sisters, so maybe I can catch up on your posts 🙂

    Reply
  6. Loved it! You’re on a poetry roll lately. I agree with what Mike said, but in thinking about it, maybe its more about finding yourself…..it’s easy to lose sight of who you are when you’re preoccupied with daily routines and obligations.

    Reply
  7. Hmmm… Sounds like one of Andro’s milder offerings – a restless spirit wandering the night only to return to her grave and wrapping the shroud tightly about her ready to sleep through the day…

    God Bless!

    Prenin.

    Reply
    • I like it! Somehow, I figured Andro would be the one to read vampire into the mix, but he said he was off his game.
      {HUGZ}
      Red.

      Reply
  8. bear

     /  February 21, 2012

    Bad place. Bad area. Missing home.

    Reply
  9. Aha, my friend, finding the way is anything but simple. It is a personal journey and we get off track now and then (okay more often than that probably). I think we create the journey with each day as well and our path becomes clearer with each day too. I enjoyed the poem xx

    Reply
    • I think, to a large degree, the way is the culmination of all the little detours which is enriched by the meandering we do away from it. I like your interpretation.

      Reply
  10. ah, Red. I would have to say the undead returning to the grave. Who knows. hahaha! You are a poet even if you don’t think so.Great poem even if that isn’t ‘the way’. ~R

    Reply
    • You are not the first to mention the undead in this one. I have to say, I did not consider it at the time, but it is an interesting take which adds all new leaves to the pod 😉

      Thank you, Ray.
      Red.

      Reply

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

CommentLuv badge

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

0Shares
0 0 0