Death Rolls In . . .

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Graeme
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Death Rolls In . . .

Post by Graeme » Mon Nov 19, 2007 9:30 am

Quite honestly, I don't know where this belongs - however - I do need help with it. I have found it nearly impossible to write since August - and am still struggling to deal with my loss. Perhaps finishing this poem, will help bring life back into proper perspective.

Death Rolls In . . .

Carried by the currents of a tide
Hidden deeply within life’s flow
Relentless it crashes against the shore
Driven by forces beyond the realm of man

Death stretches its icy fingers
Deep within the heart of the living
And so carries him out to sea
Beyond the reach of his loved ones

Only gentle etchings in the sand
Remain for those left behind
To cling to, until they too are
Carried away by the currents of a tide

Here is my revision as of 11/24 - Thanks Heinz!

Death rolls in
On the current of Life's tide
Driven by forces outside man's realm
It relentlessly crashes against the shore

Death stretches its icy fingers
Into the hearts of the living
As it carries loved ones out to sea
Beyond earthly reach

Only gentle etchings in the sand
Remain for those left behind
To cling to... until they, too,
Are washed away in the tide

Any other suggestions are welcome!
Last edited by Graeme on Thu Nov 29, 2007 1:41 pm, edited 2 times in total.
This above all to thine own self be true.

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heinzs
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Re: Death Rolls In . . .

Post by heinzs » Fri Nov 23, 2007 11:48 am

Death Rolls In . . .

Carried by the currents of a tide
Hidden deeply within life’s flow
Relentless it crashes against the shore
Driven by forces beyond the realm of man

Death stretches its icy fingers
Deep within the heart of the living
And so carries him out to sea
Beyond the reach of his loved ones

Only gentle etchings in the sand
Remain for those left behind
To cling to, until they too are
Carried away by the currents of a tide
I have never recovered from the death of my son, Benjamin... nor do I truly "want" to. But life must go on, and a semblance of "normalcy" eventually returns, and the sharp pain becomes a dull ache. Tears will continue to well at unexpected and uncontrolled times, but that is as it should be and will become a part of you.

Let me attempt to offer a brief re-work of this as an example of where you might take it:

Death rolls in
On the current of Life's tide
Relentlessly crashing against the shore
Driven by forces beyond man's realm

Icy fingers stretch
Into the hearts of the living
As it carries the love ones out to sea
Beyond reach

Only gentle etchings in the sand
Remain for those left behind
To cling to... until they, too,
Wash away in the tide

:cool: :cool: :thumbsup:
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Graeme
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Re: Death Rolls In . . .

Post by Graeme » Fri Nov 23, 2007 3:38 pm

Thank you, Heinz, I really like the way you pared this down for me. My feelings are no longer lost in the words.

I really miss being in a poetry response group, advice like yours is so important to growth!

My hear aches for you; the pain of losing a child is a sore that can never heal. I think it reroutes human existance.
This above all to thine own self be true.

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Re: Death Rolls In . . .

Post by Mightfall » Wed Nov 28, 2007 11:33 pm

Graeme wrote:Thank you, Heinz, I really like the way you pared this down for me. My feelings are no longer lost in the words.

I really miss being in a poetry response group, advice like yours is so important to growth!

My hear aches for you; the pain of losing a child is a sore that can never heal. I think it reroutes human existence.

I agree totally with Heinz (re the poem), the key though is not specifically re the loss, but the poem.

This poem needs to be exactly what you want, but you may find like his edits that line clarifying, like the act of physical clarification, will benefit this poem. I often write free hand and then go and discover an excess word in ever line of a segment.
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Graeme
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Re: Death Rolls In . . .

Post by Graeme » Thu Nov 29, 2007 1:44 pm

Yes, Mightfall, you caught the problem I have in most everything. If one or two words will suffice and babble on for two or three sentences.

I often need someone to cut away my excess verbage!
This above all to thine own self be true.

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Re: Death Rolls In . . .

Post by Eyes Unclouded » Sat Dec 29, 2007 11:57 am

I think this poem is at its most devasting when it is at its quietest such as in the last stanza. The only issue i find is with the the first two line of the second stanza. Is death a malevolent force or or just part of "life's tide"?
I wonder if you have read any Randall Jarrell? he also deals with loss with a gentle quiet as you do in this poem, specificaly the poem "When I Visited Home Last Christmas..."

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Re: Death Rolls In . . .

Post by heinzs » Sat Dec 29, 2007 2:49 pm

Losses


It was not dying: everybody died.
It was not dying: we had died before
In the routine crashes-- and our fields
Called up the papers, wrote home to our folks,
And the rates rose, all because of us.
We died on the wrong page of the almanac,
Scattered on mountains fifty miles away;
Diving on haystacks, fighting with a friend,
We blazed up on the lines we never saw.
We died like aunts or pets or foreigners.
(When we left high school nothing else had died
For us to figure we had died like.)

In our new planes, with our new crews, we bombed
The ranges by the desert or the shore,
Fired at towed targets, waited for our scores--
And turned into replacements and worke up
One morning, over England, operational.

It wasn't different: but if we died
It was not an accident but a mistake
(But an easy one for anyone to make.)
We read our mail and counted up our missions--
In bombers named for girls, we burned
The cities we had learned about in school--
Till our lives wore out; our bodies lay among
The people we had killed and never seen.
When we lasted long enough they gave us medals;
When we died they said, "Our casualties were low."

The said, "Here are the maps"; we burned the cities.

It was not dying --no, not ever dying;
But the night I died I dreamed that I was dead,
And the cities said to me: "Why are you dying?
We are satisfied, if you are; but why did I die?"

Randall Jarrell
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Graeme
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Re: Death Rolls In . . .

Post by Graeme » Sat Dec 29, 2007 9:57 pm

I have never read Randall Jarrell; thank you for posting one of his poems here for me, Heinz. It was haunting. I will look for more.

Eyes Untouched, the last verse is my favorite too. Which will be carried away first, the memory of the lost loved one or the one left behind?

I am struggling to come to grips with your first comment. I know death is a part of life's tide, but it feels like a malevalent force when one you love is taken away.
This above all to thine own self be true.

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Re: Death Rolls In . . .

Post by heinzs » Sat Dec 29, 2007 11:03 pm

I think the final version as penned is very strong and powerful. It would fit in the "tribute" section, if you'd like, or in "general" poetry.
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Graeme
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Re: Death Rolls In . . .

Post by Graeme » Sun Dec 30, 2007 10:56 am

Thank you, Heinz, I put it in the tribute section.
This above all to thine own self be true.

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Re: Death Rolls In . . .

Post by heinzs » Sun Dec 30, 2007 11:54 am

:thumbsup: :cool:
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Re: Death Rolls In . . .

Post by bags123 » Fri Jan 04, 2008 6:36 am

:cheers:
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snorple
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Re: Death Rolls In . . .

Post by snorple » Sat Feb 09, 2008 4:06 pm

I feel you missed the mark in your first draft graem, I am content to let Heinze help you with this.

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Re: Death Rolls In . . .

Post by BeeJay » Tue Feb 12, 2008 8:15 am

Graeme: The poem has a quite tempo that suits a phrase like "soft drops the rain .....etc It has fine imagery that leads us into our own world of thoughts. I would only like to suggest a small change
Carried away by the currents of a tide


Carried away by the currents of time. Do consider. _BeeJay
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Re: Death Rolls In . . .

Post by snorple » Tue Feb 12, 2008 12:16 pm

Death rolls in
Death steals in

(Does death roll in or does it steal and take away]
[Although death experienced by all it is not exactly part of life, rather it is the extinguishing of life, the snuffing out, the antithesis of life. It is horrible, it is terror filled, it is a force beyond out control and it robs us of our loved ones.]

On the current of Life's tide
[I would say you have overdone it here with current and tide, I think current is enough of a metaphor]
Driven by forces outside man's realm

[This is ok in the sentiment yet the forces are beyond out control, not outside of our realm they are part of our realm the forces that kill are.]
It relentlessly crashes against the shore

Death stretches its icy fingers

[This is ok but death is cold rather than icy, cold impassive, unmoving, unresponsive, stone-like]

Into the hearts of the living
[I would say out of rather than into, out of the heart of the living]

As it carries loved ones out to sea

[Yes, death carries people away, it’s true, in the grave or dissipated with heat in a crematorium, or even buried at sea]

Beyond earthly reach [this line is ok]

Only gentle etchings in the sand
Remain for those left behind
To cling to... until they, too,
Are washed away in the tide


The problem I have with the whole poem is the continuing metaphor about the sea, and shore, sand and tide, current and so on. And I am not being unsympathetic here, death is horrible, personal and tragic even, for those left. I know you want to place death as a simile and metaphor with the sea, but basically it fails because the sea is alive, vibrant, clean, refreshing and most of all alive, it contains billions of tons of animals and life in abundance. The sea brings hope and life, sure it can bring disaster and death, no doubt about that, but that is incidental to it’s power and life giving properties.

Death is about loss, the stench of decay, my own mother who dies five years ago smelled terrible towards the end, and my sister explained that her body was breaking down. Death is an offence to the nostril, and to the dignity of man. I loved my mother and it broke me to see her lovely face demolished in front of my eyes.

There is nothing romantic in death it is defeat of the human condition because first of all we are vibrant when alive. There is also much bitterness with those who are left, despair, loathing, hatred, anger all the negative emotions can come to the fore, it’s later when we are over the initial grief that we remember and relive our lives with the disceased in dreams, thought, visions of remembrance.

And in writing this critique I am aware that death may have afflicted you too and I can feel your need to place these feeling on paper, for many reasons one of which may be to honour the dead. And believe me I would not cast any scorn at what you may be experiencing right now. So it’s not easy to write the critique, that is why I shyed away at first and came back to the poem later to read again and to try to understand. But you have asked for a critique and a critique you shall have. In fact you have demanded a critique as I imagine you want to get it right, you grief, your loss about death. Perhaps few if any will agree with me in my writing here, that’s OK, but I can only write what I feel and know, and if my critique is to honest I must then say what I feel about the work, and to a large extent ignore anything else.

If it is any use, I will post my own response to death, something I wrote at the time. It helped me at the time to put things down, and I had just joined the forum. I had never been much of a poet before my mother died and looking back I seem to be able to look down on myself writing it , with some surprise. It didn’t save me though, I still went through depression, dreams that were so real about my parents now both passed on, nightmares, grief, such terrible grief and now still the dreams come, mostly happy dreams but so real as if they speak beyond the grave. And I know that to them I was their all-in-all and now I realise they were mine too.

DEATH STALKS LOVE

In death sin rages in it’s game
She rests beneath the red soaked sod
Decay mars that once human frame
former image our angry God

The shell remains empty staring eyes
Address through the black night's torrid veil
cloud mist filled darkened spheres cry
No more our Lord to worship hail

Cause in our breaking hearts sob deep
Cold impassive cruel death does reign
with foul malice and oft we weep
hate her body, yet loved in pain

Helplessness despair walk hand in hand
Side by side and we are left to feel this total grief
To end in empty loneliness Satan's band
shall not crush heaven's promise sweet relief

© 5iahmrmgm Feb 2005
On the death of his mother.


Regards

Snorple
Last edited by snorple on Wed Feb 13, 2008 1:26 am, edited 1 time in total.

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