The BlueIris Semi-Nightly Poetry Break, 5/12/08

[BlueIris]

"Suburban Hilltop"

Withdrawn from layers of upper air, ice-blue and clear,
the city wrinkles down under its mist
as if in fear,
as if it wished to hide
under those smoky threads which twist
up in the winter afternoon.
They've spun a huge, bruise-colored cocoon
with all the city's larval movements there inside.

I watch a trolley like a worm explore,
halting, over the valley floor,
the lice of traffic and far away,
black-feelered freighters squatting on the bay...
The smoke's cocoon, half curled
back, shows me this new wriggling world,
framed
where my eye has aimed
and pinned it to the valley floor,
visible through my metaphor.

My urban larva, bared to the sharp view
of such iced weapons and the skies,
what will we do
now? Flutter into butterflies?

—Richard Moore

[CaliforniaPeggy]

1. My dear BlueIris!

Oh, wow!

I love the use of the metaphors, and the colors of the language!

How I wish I could write this way...

Thank you!

:hug:

[BlueIris]

2. Yeah, this is one of those poems that makes one go, "Damn! I wish I'd written that!"

You hang in there, Ms. C-Peg. Your success just has to catch up with you.

[CaliforniaPeggy]

3. That's really too kind of you...

I am, however, hanging in there...

Thank you!

:hug:

[BlueIris]

4. Kick.

[ThomCat]

5. I wish a city was that beautiful

but I don't see any butterflies coming. :(

[BlueIris]

6. Ah, there's ThomCat. Nice to see you posting again. nt

[ThomCat]

7. Hi BlueIris,

Not as often, and still not very intelligently. My meds make me feel very confused most of the time. But I'm around a bit. :)

I admit, I'm avoiding poetry when I feel too confused to get it. :(