Raymond left a comment on I ain’t escared, which just made me know this was a poem which would find its way from the scribble pad beside my bed to M3. Mantra tends to like singing me to sleep. I love looking at the pad when I wake up to see where I fell asleep and scrawled across the page.
Now, you have to understand, sometimes the poem is not finished before my lights go out (with the bed lamp still lit). I will wake in the morning and read the last line (not the whole thing) and pick up where I left off.
Fortunately, Mantra has memorized all the words and just sings it a second (seventh) time for me somewhere between the time the coffee pot starts and my eyes come into focus. Good thing I have to type these things here. My handwriting is atrocious.
The name of this poem is Jagged. It was where this poem began. The word had been stuck in my fingertips for a couple days before the song had lyrics I could translate. This poem feels really different when you read the punctuation as opposed to the line.
Remember, my poetry only has lines to give it a visual appeal and to remind me to occasionally toss in a rhyming word. The meat of the story is held in the prose. This particular poem is another one with sound.
Tell me which sense this poem appeals to the most. I am interested in what you have to say.
Jagged
Reality’s edge is jagged.
When standing too close,
One can easily get snagged
On the sharp edges.
Leaning over the side
In hopes to gauge what’s
Beneath the abysmal tide,
Can send one headlong
To the dampened depths,
Falling where the tide
Long ago had crept.
Retreated now into the
Silent solace of quiet,
Not hearing its own
Thund’rous insurmountable height
Until the echo clamors
Up between the canyon
Walls so steep and sheer,
Breaking the waking dreams on
The craggy outcropped stones.
Be careful lest you trip.
For the fall is long with
Nothing along the way to grip
After you leave the jagged edge.
040120122330
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What did you hear? What did it say to you?
Marc Phillippe Babineau
/ January 23, 2012I have to admit poetry and me don’t mix well (well, except for limericks!). Yet I see this as being a battle with one’s self to admit some form of mental disease or defect? “The fall is long with nothing to grip” seems like falling into the abyss of mental illness.
Red
/ January 23, 2012Interesting take on this one, Marc!
MattAndJojang
/ January 23, 2012Life is full of pitfalls. We are full of illusions. We need wisdom to navigate the rough life’s twists and turns…
~ Matt
Red
/ January 23, 2012Very poetic summary, Matt. Sounds almost as though you read “No.” as well. Have a wonderful evening! Red.
MattAndJojang
/ January 23, 2012Your article “No”, reminds me of the Zen koan “Mu.” “Mu” is a Japanese word which literally means “No” or “Nothing.” However, among the Zen people this doesn’t mean something that is negative. In fact it denotes something very positive, because, for them, it the doorway to spiritual enlightenment! Very paradoxical indeed…
Have a wonderful evening, too, Red!
Red
/ January 23, 2012I subscribe to the Zen ideal of nothing. To me the emptiness always means opportunity!
Red.
ansuyo
/ January 23, 2012The ‘feeling’ for me was more literal – the feeling of walking along a jagged precipice, knowing the danger but putting one foot in front of the other anyway. Of course that also applies metaphorically.
Red
/ January 23, 2012The walk is an important part of this one, Angie.
ansuyo
/ January 23, 2012Question: What are the numbers under your poems? Is that the number you’ve written??? 🙂
Red
/ January 23, 2012ROFL!!! Ah, no. I am prolific, but…no. *Grins & Giggles*
It is the date and time I write them. More specifically, the date and time I finish them. Some must wait until the morning, where others must await nightfall. On the rare occasion, I perch somewhere and write them in one sitting, as I have done here.
prenin
/ January 24, 2012Sounds like one of my nightmares…
Thanks for the visit and comment Red! 🙂
Yes the charge is exorbitant, but we are required to pay it even if we only own a mobile phone that has internet access.
Talk about daylight robbery… 🙁
Love and hugs!
Prenin.
Red
/ January 24, 2012In a way, it is a nightmare. Perhaps, I shall share what my vision of this particular poem is. I think it applies to the BBC as well 😉 {HUGZ} Red.
prenin
/ January 24, 2012Hi Red! 🙂
Just caught your second comment! 🙂
I could just imagine all the excuses they’d have to come up with for over-prescribing the way they have over the past three months if I DID commit suicide! 🙁
Suicide is a last-ditch option: My tormentors destroyed me and took away my good name so I tried to kill myself, then after i came out of the Psychiatric Hospital they carried on wrecking my life until they poisoned my water supply to force me to go to Hospital A&E so I could be physically examined by a doctor for the injuries I suffered when I was raped at the age of eleven – my deepest and most humiliating shame – while my step-father (a retired cop) acted as my next-of-kin even though he wasn’t, my mother was.
Now I have nobody around me I can trust and too many eager to make money out of my suffering…
Love and hugs!
Prenin.
Red
/ January 24, 2012Living in the virtual world has its advantages. There are many who care for you, dear Pren. {HUGZ} Red.
prenin
/ January 24, 2012hi hun! 🙂
Just caught your third comment! 🙂
I was supposed to get vouchers to go to Weight Watchers, but they never appeared!
Turned out my ‘stalled weight program’ was due to my bathroom scales being a tad inaccurate when in fact I was losing weight at a good rate! 🙁
I’m now down to 112Kg and I hope to make it to 98Kg by the end of the year. 🙂
Love and hugs!
Prenin.
Red
/ January 24, 2012Well, go to know you were on track after all! I know you will be able to pull off your goals. You have the perseverance to do it! {HUGZ} Red.
valentinelogar
/ January 24, 2012Sister of my heart, you hit my primitive heart this morning as I read this. I suspect you will figure out why shortly.
I love this one, it is for me both literal and visual.
Red
/ January 24, 2012Yes. Yes, I do, my dear sister.
christyb
/ January 24, 2012Comparing the edge of the cliff to our escape from reality is an interesting concept you explore well within this poem. The sense that appeals to me is the sense of touch, imagining the hard feel of the cliff walls against my fingertips as I as try to climb my way back to stable ground… literally. Glad you steered me over here Red!
Red
/ January 24, 2012I am glad you liked this one. This one has a visceral edge to it if you let yourself into the fall. Glad you came by to read and offer your take! Red.
lorrelee1970
/ January 24, 2012Ouch! the jagged edge is a bitch, for sure. Very lovely poem.
You make me think and that is difficult, that I need to close my semi-abandoned poetry blog and start putting stuff on my one site. You make it all blend so nicely.