Uncommon Tuesday

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  1. #1

    Uncommon Tuesday

    Uncommon Tuesday: The Hoar Limned Lamb


    An Impossibly Common Thing, such was the Tuesday,
    like the April winds she was as tumultuous, damn lamb—
    always there, the heart of a storm’s wrath and disarray.

    Tattered blooms, rent limbs, bright linen gone astray,
    and there, an Impossibly Common Thing, that lamb,
    frolicked, rollicked among the fresh carnage of today—

    So much chaos, spring gone, in wrack and ruin it lay.
    Blossoms of hoar choked the lilies, limning the lamb,
    a silver lining on a fleece common as a grey Tuesday.

    Haloed by stormlight, a harbinger of ills come to stay—
    Fury and bite, Winter sought to sour the mizzled lamb,
    Impossibly Common, a Marchborne Ewe, dared play.

    Warm in her woolens, that damn lamb proud in grey,
    was the Eye of Brighter Things like Back the old Ram.
    Hoarlimn, Impossible Things an Uncommon Tuesday.


  2. #2
    I really liked the structure that you put forth here Darkkin. I read it aloud a few times and the rhythm, the beats- for me, were very succinct and poised. I thought that was enthralling.

    Also, these lines:

    always there, the heart of a storm’s wrath and disarray.

    rolicked, rollicked among the fresh carnage of today—


    So much chaos, spring gone, in wrack and ruin it lay.

    Very much liked. Neat work.

    Thanks for sharing!
    “As 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
    The second stanza took my breath away... This poem is woven with such elegant, silken imagery... some may not think wool can be silken, but it can be, in the hands of a Master weaver....Weave on, Darkkin... your poetry is so delicate and lovely, but it has the durability of strong wool...
    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.

  4. #4
    Member Thomas Norman's Avatar
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    Read this several times D but still don't quite understand it but perhaps that's the point. I get a feeling of a garment of some kind, perhaps w a woolen jumper caught on a fence! No that's just my vivid imagination running away with me! The important thing is it reads beautifully, the rhythm, rhyme, alliteration etc, and the central line of each stanza chiming then the final Ram. quite brilliant.

  5. #5
    Tuesday is a lamb, well, the lamb, in point of fact, of the saying 'Did March come in as a Lion or Lamb?' Tuesday is the March Lamb with the ferocity of the Lion of Winter. She arrives on the wild winds and charcoal fleeced clouds that blow in from the north. Where she frollicks the winds follow as the outliers of spring, lillies and new leaves are once again encased in snow. A couple of bright, warm days is all it takes to forget the memories of winter, but Tuesday arrives to remind us.

    But like her joy in the power of an early spring storm, there is a gentle beauty in the phenomena she brings. Fractals and silver linings that pierce through the gloom as the sun peeks out...a softness of the wind, rich with moisture and promise. The hardness of deep winter, broken, the fresh scents of bare earth just before the arrival of the outlier growth. She allows the hoar frost to root and bloom, enriching the empty world during their brief tenure. She carries the light of a silver lining for those who know how and where to look. Just as she presages the White Pelican Flights. After all, she is the offspring of Back, the Black, a Stormcrest Ram. A common creature clad in drab grey, with traits as uncommon as people who geniunely love Tuesdays.

    She is a child's joy in an unexpected snow day and the innocence of the young. Joy in the little things inspite of a world howling about the return of snow...Tuesday rollicks, frollicks and shines in the thin light. She is a lively bit of nonsense come to defy an otherwise dreary, quarrelsome day.

    Apperciate the reads.

    - D.
    Last edited by Darkkin; May 12th, 2019 at 01:35 PM.


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