Thread: At the Root of Arrogance

The piece of clay that talked,
walked out among the trees,
and boasted; "You are mine,
to do with as I please."

He gazed up at their branches,
ran his eye down each trunk-
with a heady sense of power,
he was well and truly drunk.

The trees merely murmured
in the language known to leaves;
their words rustled softly,
as sighs upon the breeze-

"Oh foolish, tailless monkey,
your kind never learn a thing,
and though you rule, in truth-
you won't ever be our king.

You slay us by the thousands,
and bend us to your will-
through arboreal auschwitz,
known to humans as a Mill.

But in the end, you return
to the dirt from which you came.
So you see in fact our fates,
are really much the same.

And each piece of clay that talked,
will then lie beneath our feet-
as once more, the ancient circle
of our lives, we complete."

Beautiful perfection from moral to meter to rhymes. Our returning lady has made a grand reentrance. Loved this, Cindy, not a nit to these eyes. So very happy you're amongst us again, missed you terribly. Way to return, love, you're getting a great handle on that awful meter thingy, have you two made friends, then? Perhaps you can put in a good word for me. Great piece, truly great.

I love this concept...mainly because it is one that I have explored in some of my own writing, and you have expressed it beautifully. Your meter is smooth and even without forcing the words into the each line to make it fit with funky composition. Rhymes work similarly, fitting together without needing to be forced. My only nit is the last two lines of the last stanza, which read awkwardly, to me, at least. I believe it has to do with the syntax of the final line and the enjambment you make use of in the third line. Moreover, the unstressed beat at the end of the third line alters the rhythm just enough to make it uncomfortable. I would suggest flipping around your syntax:

And each piece of clay that talked,
will then lie beneath our feet-
the ancient circle of our lives
will once more be complete."

Of course, it is only a suggestion, so feel free to take it or leave it. I do think it improves the rhythm and I don't believe that you lose any of the meaning here. Othere than this small thing, the poem was well written and, as I said, of a subject near and dear to my heart.



T

Cindy,

As usual, your rhyme and meter in this poem flows smoothly. I'm glad to have you back.

My favorite verse, as it gently tells the truth.

But in the end, you return
to the dirt from which you came.
So you see in fact our fates,
are really much the same.

A beautifully written poem.

Cindy

A very easily read poem (due to the flow), which you've executed perfectly. The rhyming seems natural (most of the time), which is always a difficult thing to accomplish, no matter how experienced you are.

he was well and truly drunk.

This line doesn't work for me. Throughout the poem you are showing us in a both abstract and sombre style. Though in context this line works well, I read it separately, and the immediate impression I got was of him being drunk from alcohol. This could be because it's broken away from the 'power' line, so a moment of thought is required, but I left the poem for a moment after reading the line (which isn't good, obviously).

It could just be me, so don't immediately rush into changing it, just see if you can see that effect being likely.

The hidden power of trees and the folly of man's dominance over them is always an interesting topic to play with in a poem, and is also very beautiful and powerful one if you pull it off.

You did.

I enjoyed this poem. It hits home with me in many ways and kinda flowed right into me.

I especially liked the lines,

"The trees merely murmured
in the language known to leaves;"

Haha, awesome, Gumby. Beautiful language and very insightful. I mildly disagree with the idea, though. I think we should respect mother nature, but I also think we should enjoy her gifts. Mankind isn't very much without our log homes and technology.

through arboreal auschwitz,
known to humans as a Mill.

Hey, I resemble that. I worked in a pulp and paper mill for 3 years. Work is hardly the right word though, I drank coffee two thirds of the time.

Firstly, let me say that I am not ready to handcuff myself to trees in order to save them. I very much enjoy all the benefits that come from the lumber mills. This was inspired by my own experience in clearing our land over the last few years, getting ready to build our house. We spent several days trudging through the wild woods and wicked vines, marking the trees we wanted to leave up. I feel we were very concientious in our effort to keep as many trees as possible. But it's a shocking sight when you see those piles of trees that have been bulldozed down. They reminded me of the piles of bodies you see in the death camp photos. It was a humbling experience to see, and made me feel the weight of responsibility.

Lisa, thanks so much for your sweet words. I have a nodding acquaintance with meter, though he will often snub me.

Tenebris, I'm so glad this subject is dear to you. It has become dearer to me as a result of my experience. Your suggestions are good ones, and when I get a little distance from this piece, I will revisit what you've said, as I think you are right.

Cindy, so glad you enjoyed this one, and thank you for the welcome back.

Nick, I know exactly what you're saying and will have to think on it a while. There may be a way of re wording it. Thank you for pointing that out.

stonefly, thank you. That was one of my favorite lines too. Glad you enjoyed.

Caelum, I'm right there with you! Like I said, I'm not ready to chain myself to the trees, but I do think we should be wiser conservators of our resources. I am a bit in awe of trees and can spend hours out in the woods just enjoying their beauty. And hey, coffee is what flows through my veins. I don't think I could work without it.

Cindy, this is wonderful. I recently moved to an area where I have a cornfield nestled up to a little woods near my backyard. When they cut the cornfield down, it seemed so sterile and empty to my eyes. Trees do seem more like humans. Good humans.

Sondra

It never ceases to amaze me that many humans do not consider themselves a part of nature...? But I know it as a prevalent attitude among them. O_o Anyway, there are some decent rhymes here. This does not make me feel anything really about the trees, however, and it seems that was the intent in writing (yes? no?). It makes me feel that I am reading the opinion of a human being stated in rhyme about the subject of trees. To use a well-worn cliche, for which I apologize in advance: You're telling me about the trees, and not showing me the trees.

Otherwise, I like how you include both Darwinism ("tailless monkey") and creationism ("piece of clay") when speaking about humanity. Was that deliberate? Very clever.

Thank you Sondra, glad you enjoyed.

Scarlett, that is exactly what this poem is about. The way we humans tend to think of ourselves as apart from nature, rather than a part of nature. It really isn't about the trees, it's about the human. And yes, the inclusion of Creationism and Darwinism was intentional. Thank you for reading and commenting.