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 WHY. A poem

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Irelandalucia



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PostSubject: WHY. A poem   Mon Feb 28, 2011 7:49 am

I have walked in the valley of the shadow of death, and I have feared great ill
And stumbled over stony ground, where surer feet have fell.
I’ve known the loss of guiding hand and mourned its steady hold,
and wandered in the desert place, beyond the shepherds fold.
My prayers have bounced from brass clad dome, to echo in the void,
my tears and cries unanswered, my faith and trust destroyed.
The bitter gall of emptiness, of wasted time and chance,
that choked the breath and stabbed the heart, with realizations lance.
The power above, no longer hears, the screams of mankind’s woe,
those omnipresent eyes of care, no longer watch below.
For in that place where heaven was, there sits an empty hall,
resounding every echo, of the cries and pleas of all.
The countless Gods, the Prophet hordes, the Holy men renowned,
lie unmarked in their wooden rooms, awaiting promised crowns.
Their statues bear this testament to all who look and stare.
If one of these knew truly God, why won’t his God declare?
How many thousand million lives, deceived by reverent fraud,
search in everlasting void, abandoned by their God?
What of the countless multitudes, who starve in barren fields,
Or die in futile battles, fought for other people’s greed?
Where is the justice where’s the right, where stand the meeker then?
The trite reply rings hollow from the lips of Holy men;
you cannot understand his ways, nor question God’s great plan.
Suffice to live, and then to die, a hope filled happy man.
Am I alone in asking, or wondering if it’s true,
Where is the God of Abraham and fiery furnace too,
this God that guided Israelites, from Egypt’s brutal hands,
and led the way, with power and fire, into a promised land?
Oh that I’d walked in Canaan’s fields, and spoken face to face,
and asked the burning questions, on behalf of mankind’s race.
Where did you go, why do we wait upon this tortured earth,
and Seeking God of truth and love, discovering only dearth.
Yet still I hope, and still I pray, not knowing if I’m heard,
and read and try to understand, the everlasting word.
A fool am I, apparently, to query mystic things,
to witness Faustian madness, and the pain religion brings.
Yet still the questions hang in space, their letters ten miles high,
For Who, and What, and When, and Where, and most important WHY?
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EvaBrick
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PostSubject: Re: WHY. A poem   Tue Mar 01, 2011 9:27 am

What a beautiful poem. :D Your rhymes are strong, even the visual ones, and they don't sound forced.

My only little nit-pick is that there are a few punctuation errors. For instance, in line 4, "shepherds" should have an apostrophe to indicate the possessive form of the noun... if you're talking about one shepherd, it should be "shepherd's" but if you're talking about many shepherds, it should be "shepherds'". I noticed this in a couple of other places in the poem, too.

Oh, and "brass clad dome" should be "brass-clad dome" because you're creating on term from two.

That's minor stuff though and it's easy to fix.

Your poem reminds me of the poetry of the late romantic and industrial eras, in that it questions ideas about how we live without being disrespecful to established culture and tradition. It creates an atmosphere of mild anxiety without sounding like bad teenaged angst or beatnik self-pity. It reminds me a bit of William Blake's classic poem "Tyger."

Beautiful work, thank you so much for sharing it with us. Very Happy
cheer
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rkollman
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Location : Texas

PostSubject: Re: WHY. A poem   Tue Mar 01, 2011 10:14 am

Ooooh, yes! I agree with Eva. Beautiful! Your rhythm and imagery reminds me of Gerard Manley Hopkins ("Carrion Comfort," maybe). Thanks so much for giving us a glimpse of your world.

flowers

rkollman
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Irelandalucia



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PostSubject: Re: WHY. A poem   Fri Mar 11, 2011 9:58 am

Thanks evabrick & Krollman,
it still as you rightly pointed out needs a tweak or two or three, So thanks for the pointers. I have amended as indicated.
When i started this, I had no real idea of where it was going but it just seemed to lead on, one idea after another. I guess it sorta wrote itself, if that makes any sense to you?
Thanks again
Best regards
D
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EvaBrick
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PostSubject: Re: WHY. A poem   Fri Mar 11, 2011 6:29 pm

It makes sense. The best things write themselves. block
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