Imaginings

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Thread: Imaginings

  1. #1

    Imaginings

    reworked version of a previous post


    Imaginings

    See that lonesome, windswept beach
    The one that isnít there.
    Hear the breakers breathing
    Taste the spumish air.

    Smell the bearing of the breeze
    Suspending seagulls in mid-air.
    Feel the pull of the ocean
    Even though it isnít there.
    grasp the mettle of things unsaid
    and strike the nail upon the head

  2. #2
    I quite like this, though one part of it is lost on me.

    What does "spumish" mean?
    ďAs far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light of meaning in the darkness of mere being,"

    -Carl Jung

  3. #3
    thank you for reading and commenting -

    spumish? - yes, a good question Bard because it's not actually a word
    but to the narrator, it means endowed with spume.
    grasp the mettle of things unsaid
    and strike the nail upon the head

  4. #4
    I really like the rhythm that this poem pulls u into. I also love the word 'spumish,' I plan to stick it randomly into my conversations from now on

  5. #5
    Quote Originally Posted by ned View Post
    reworked version of a previous post

    Imaginings

    See that lonesome, windswept beach
    The one that isn’t there.
    Hear the breakers breathing
    Taste the spumish air.

    Smell the bearing of the breeze
    Suspending seagulls in mid-air.
    Feel the pull of the ocean
    Even though it isn’t there.

    This is a good, how can I say, airy poem. I like the end "even though it isn't there" 'cause at first you're envisioning a scene as if you're in it but then automatically taking the reader out from his imagination and into reality. That or it could be emerging from a dream or coming back to reality as if we're living in the figment of our imaginations.

    My only comment is the format and color throws off the nature of the poem. I'm reading about seagulls and oceans but the pink bold is throwing that picture off. I'm more of a plan person when it comes to posting online; but, if you do decide to go with fonts, you could do ocean blue or, thinking about the beach, a maybe off light brown.

    Keep up the good work
    At last! No longer will I live another one's beat and song.
    Into ashes, Iíll return, and be it held by loved ones.
    Ceased will life liven me of breathe again to lust.
    Speak of it no more, of love, to whom, Iíve yet bequeath.
    ~Carlita

  6. #6
    This poem is exquisitely beautiful, clean and simple, with an effective rhyme scheme that has the ebb and flow of the tide... The ocean is my spiritual connection, as is the river, and your poem transported me to my happy place...
    She lost herself in the trees,
    among the ever-changing leaves.
    She wept beneath the wild sky
    as stars told stories of ancient times.
    The flowers grew toward her light,
    the river called her name at night.
    She could not live an ordinary life,
    with the mysteries of the universe
    hidden in her eyes....
    Author: Christy Ann Martine

    Death leaves a heartache no one can heal,
    love leaves a memory no one can steal....
    Author unknown.

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