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Monday, July 29, 2013

PASSAGE TO OBLIVION




By dark I sleep; I think I dream —
I touch sun dazzled swaying waves
bright circles whip so near the stream
where candycanes arise like staves.

A woman's spangled eyes send sparks
to oranges selling by the beach.
I think I met her long ago — in a song —
I search for jasmine tea — it's out of reach.

The sand grows brushes tall and green
to paint clouds white and sky deep blue
Same colored jar stands on a skein
Of seaweed dark like rendezvouz.

Concentric rings of dreams therein
balloon, then overflow and spill
soft rainbowed newly made tureens
Of flowers singing floral trills.

The flowers speak; yet, make no sense.
Those sisters screech them out of tune
I pat their little stems and wince,
the petals shatter far too soon.

I find I'm in a wingback chair
In the library of my old home town
My favorite books are lying there
I reach for one; they all fall down.

And as they do the letters lift
Into the air;  I try to catch
but all in vain -- they swirl and sift
then blow through windows out of reach

I feel so lost, I want some help
A flower bobbles back to me,
then takes its face off of the shelf;
its hands are crossed, the chime rings three.

A change, a sound, a noise I heard
this room will neither stand or sit;
at once a small prismatic bird
takes wing -- then I fly after it!

© Gay Reiser Cannon * 8/8/2013
Posted for d'VersePoets FormForAll
as an example of changing the below poem
to a mostly iambic tetrameter poem with some
anapests for variety and meaning.

*********************************************

Bemused "until the sea shall free them" *
I fall asleep in the dark and begin to dream
I walk where waves sway; the sun dazzles,
lights on water – a sea or lake around an island
barber poles seem to rise by a palace on a quay
Moonbeams flow from the braids of a
spangle-eyed woman­­­­­­­­­ selling oranges
I met her long ago – in a song.
I ask if she offers China teas
                        but she doesn't answer me
Down the beach I pass large green brushes
painting the sky the same puffy white and blue
as the sea. I find a large blue jar on the sand
water falls in, drip-drop from nowhere as I watch
Circles form the jar's surface
until it spills rainbows
transforming a garden of flowers
big white ones all talking at once
I don’t know what they're saying
maybe sisters singing (out of tune)
I pat their stems and
                they float away
I’m not sure if I have closed my eyes
or opened them as I am in a library
the one in my home town where
I went weekdays after school
In the room marked no children allowed
I sit (as of course I am not a child any more)
in the large wingback leather chair
next to all my favorite books.

I choose that one whose name I forget –
to read it again but the pages fall out
one after another the pages land on me
sift across the tables onto the floor
I reach for them and all the letters
lift into the air.  I try to catch them
and put them back in order to read
but they blow out the window far away

I feel sad, I need help when one
of the large white flowers sails in
then settles next to my face and cries.
I want to touch it but it turns to stone
I think I might be awake
everything in here is white
except a little bird - multicolored -
when it dashes out the window
                                         I fly after it
© Gay Reiser Cannon * 7.29.13
*Suzanne - Leonard Cohen
In response for K's prompt on Poetry - Water, Water Everywhere  - which I missed.

69 comments:

  1. I found this quite a journey! Dreams sometimes take us places we didn't know we wanted to go.........

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  2. oh wow gay...very fanciful...a mix of peace and angst as well...seeing the favorite books disassemble would be terrifying...ha love you flying off after the bird...that to me makes it a good dream...fly on...

    i would say you are back in the swing rather well...smiles.

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    1. I am wondering if it's giving away too much to say that though this is dream-like, it's but not meant to be a dream at all. Suzanne is a sort of key, but not entirely.

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    2. whew...you have me a bit intimidated gay...ha...but i am trying and will try to get it done before tomorrow....

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  3. very cool on flying after it...following the bird...flying with the pages instead of getting them into a book again...this speaks of much freedom for me.... loved also the woman you met long ago – in a song - wow - really fascinating write gay

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    1. The mind is often free to go where the body can't.

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    2. love what you did with it for the prompt gay... and so good to having you back...smiles

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    3. Thanks Claudia and Brian! Enjoy yourselves!! Happy summer.

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  4. so much here to take in...each stanza a flight of fancy to take apart and find the meaning.

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  5. i like that sense that we still have that inner child that questions whether we should be allowed to be sitting in a room precludes child

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  6. This is Alice in Wonderland at its very best.
    Dreams? Memories? Hopes and wishes?
    All delectably coated in the most wonderfully soft tones and wrapped in oriental fabrics.
    A table spread with exquisite dishes: I must be careful not to be too greedy and overeat.

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    1. Don't doubt yourself: this poem was spot on!!
      I thought you must have known of the relationship between A. in W. and dementia care in order to write this.
      Take a look HERE

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    2. Thank you Aprille. This article is fascinating. I didn't know it but I appreciate your comment even more now. Of course, I do know (rather well) the Alice books. My mother had congestive heart failure in her latter years and had had a series of small strokes. Her dementia came and went. She "saw" any manner of strange things and they did stir in her usually tender emotions. Thanks for this illumination.

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  7. Wonderful images, beautiful poem.

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  8. I think this poem is not successful. It's meant to be from the point of view of a patient with dementia. Each scene has been transposed into a sort of fantasy and ends in the frustration of not being able to even read or remember. Suggestions for how to improve this would be appreciated.

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  9. What a dream! Your explanation really helps, as I can see that now, dementia.

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    1. Thanks Laurie - maybe a title change. I like the work as it is, but would like something more as a clue. Initial title was "Waters of Oblivion" but it didn't feel quite right either. I liked the intrusion of a song from the 60s of a ditzy hippie woman selling oranges. It's a line someone might remember and a bit of an homage to Leonard Cohen. The line in the title comes from this stanza: "And Jesus was a sailor
      When he walked upon the water
      And he spent a long time watching
      From his lonely wooden tower
      And when he knew for certain
      Only drowning men could see him
      He said "All men will be sailors then
      Until the sea shall free them"

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  10. This has that unsettling beauty of a dream with important messages lurking in its shadows.

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  11. Oh, Gay--beautiful poem. Definitely worth waiting for.

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  12. Fascinating as it flow s through a dreamlike sequence. Thanks,

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  13. When I read this it made me feel a bit sad maybe, it is just me..but, I sense a quality of loss trying to remember in the library of the mind whether a dream or reality the poem was written with an edge. Well done..

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    1. Thank you. Perhaps there wasn't enough confusion, or angst but it is meant to be a dementia patient encountering things changed in her perception by the way her brain works.

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    2. Hi,

      I am just swinging back over to read the revision. I did sense the dementia when I was reading and that is why I mentioned the loss in the library of the mind. Thank you for the explanation.

      I enjoyed the changeover as well. You certainly hold the magic to write. A pleasure to read your work.

      Thank you!

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    3. I really appreciate your comments Truedessa. Thank you!

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  14. Hi Beach Anny :) Your words remind me of my college days when I checked a book called creativity and never go around to reading it. I thought I could learn how to do it until I forgot everything I knew. I enjoyed your words thanks for sharing love ya friend!

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  15. That is one of my favorite Cohen songs... and I think this reads very much like the way I imagine dementia would feel... weaving in and out of reality and fantasy and truth and memory. Very vivid and visceral.

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  16. I too thought this a dream until I read your explanation. In re-reading I do see the dementia clue, at least for me...and that is the stanza aboacut trying to catch the letters flown away...A beautiful write, Gay, whether dream or thoughts on dementia... ~jackie~

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  17. I sense the searching and terrible lost loss. Sad and poignant. I particularly loved,

    In the room marked no children allowed
    I sit (as of course I am not a child any more)
    in the large wingback leather chair
    next to all my favorite books.

    I choose that one whose name I forget –
    to read it again but the pages fall out
    one after another the pages land on me
    sift across the tables onto the floor

    I reach for them and all the letters
    lift into the air. I try to catch them
    and put them back in order to read
    but they blow out the window far away

    To me as an avid reader, there is nothing more terrible than the above tragedy, as books are like old friends and memories. It is very obvious that this is someone old (the chair) and I rather thought it was someone in a home that her children had forgotten. Very melancholy.

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    1. I am so happy you liked my french couplet!

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    2. I always imagined that any kind of dementia would feel like the memories were sliding away and that if one could just find the book (or search engine) he/she could retrieve knowledge/memories but even when they try to find them, they flee. I witnessed a mild dementia in my mother in her last years, and memories were always getting mixed up with fantasies and with what she thought she "saw" with her bad vision. The yard in winter was full of bunnies, deer, chicks, and other baby animals. I think it was only tufts of snow and ice on rather overgrown grass.

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  18. I love the unbridled nature of your poem. Dreams often take us to places of which we might be wary in a conscious state of mind. Many thanks.

    Greetings from London.

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  19. I thought your poem stood well on its own, giving me a dreamy sense of being far away from familiar things. Now that I have the advantage of reading your commentary, I see also your intent. I very much like the idea of what you are trying to do from the perspective of a patient with dementia.

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  20. Thank you everyone for reading and for your very kind and generous comments!

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  21. Hi Gay

    great to read you once again
    and thus is a cracking piece of puzzle peace
    in part but I do sense an underlying agitation
    which I like V much. but much beauty in the anxiety
    and/of the poetry

    until it spills rainbows
    transforming a garden of flowers
    big white ones all talking at once

    of course I am most likely projecting
    but your canvas allows space in which to insert
    my imagined narrative and coupled with
    my understanding and interpretation
    of the words

    a wonderful mix occurs.

    thanks gay and all the best to you

    arron


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  22. What a wonderful piece... I think the metered version goes very well, and I think that you strengthened the meaning as a person of dementia as well...

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    1. Thank you Bjorn - Happy this one was a bit more successful. Thanks so much for linking today and reading my piece. Much appreciated.

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  23. Gay, this is, simply, a stunning poem. Sigh. You have such an understanding of language. Most of what I write is simply instinctual. You are one hell of a wordsmith.

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    1. Your instincts are always magnificent. You are a born poet!

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  24. I really liked the changes that you made. I liked the poem BEFORE but like it even better now. Bravo!!

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    1. Thank you for both comments; it means a lot to me, Mary.

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  25. I can't help but wonder if, in a previous life, you were one of those poets we study to learn poetry! You just have such a great feel for this.

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    1. No, no, no - we could all say that about you! You honor me so much though, and I thank you. It comes as a great compliment coming from a poet I admire so much!

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  26. you really packed the emotions throughout

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    1. Thank you - I think that journey into a land where it's difficult to communicate is charged with confusing emotions. I'm glad you felt that.

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  27. I think the dream-state and dementia are not that far apart--the disjointed array of images, the unsettled feeling of not knowing what is real, the feeling, as you put it, of trying to catch a vanishing experience or memory. Excellent writing--the form is immaculate.

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    1. Thanks Nico. I believe you're right. Appreciate your comment.

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  28. Although I love metered and formatted poetry, I think in this case I much prefer the second version, the free verse, which sets a darker, more dream-like mood. Nice job on both forms.

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    1. I like it too. I worried that the ballad form was perhaps too set, too pretty for the subject. I have now accepted them both -- always dangerous for a poet, I think. Much appreciate your reading and evaluating Ginny. I work best with feedback.

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  29. Wow! What a dreamy creation... Reading it was like floating among the clouds. Serene with a certain anxiety which is prevalent in your words. I could feel it.

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    1. Appreciate that understanding. Thank you so much for the comment.

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  30. To me the free version seems to capture the state of mind described better and that is the one which still thrills me.

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    1. Your interpretation means a lot to me Aprille. Thank you for it.

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  31. I really quite liked the metered version. It had a serene quality, even though you see a person struggling to hold on to memories...but I love her going off with the bird, that was uplifting. A beautiful poem.

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    1. I like that bit too. As with most poems of mine, I started at the end. The desire to just fly away, get out; do something, be something different has always been appealing to me. I can imagine how someone locked up in a mind of images without any memory of how they got together, or what they mean must feel as though it would be a huge relief to simply fly away.

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  32. Both beautifully written and expressed--I read them as drifting in and out of a dreamlike state, but after reading your comment about dementia, was able to enjoy your words from a different perspective. Very well done. I also appreciate your post--helpful guide to keep for future reference.

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    1. Many thanks -!!! y'all stop back by!!! and copy that verse posted by Rosemary. It's a good thing to keep handy as a quick reminder of these rhythms.

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  33. I tried really hard to write something for this, but I didn't have it in me to wait and edit the poem any more like you did, so I ended up giving up on the poem that I was working. You can safely say that I know, therefore, just how difficult it can be, writing in this rhythm of words.

    Your poem is refreshing, like a tropical vacation after a really long hard day's work. Having had a day like that today, I'm especially glad that I came to check out your work out here.

    Great work on this! Cheers...

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    1. It's ok. Just good to know where to go look for the info when you decide to get serious about all those sonnets you've been meaning to write! (smiles)

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  34. I especially love the first poem, with such dreamy rhyme and meter. Lovely writing, so full of imagery.

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    1. Thanks Sherry - that's how I felt about yours as well.

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  35. Gay, I loved "seaweed dark like rendezvous," a beautiful thought and image. The first resonated with me most; perhaps, it's because I lived by the sea. Loved the lady selling oranges by the beach. In Puerto Rico, we had those folks, only instead of bright orange naranjas, they sold china (CHEE-na), which were little, brownish, unattractive oranges that, when cut open, revealed the sweetest, most luscious juice I've ever tasted.

    Sorry to digress, but your poem brought so my to the forefront of this poet's mind! Peace and thanks, Amy

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    1. Loved your comments. That "seaweed" thing felt pretty fresh to me too and heaven knows I have to fight cliche the MOST! Thanks Amy.

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  36. Very interesting! I like both, but I think the metric version is more dreamlike.

    My own response to the prompt is rather irreverent - but I do think it valuable that you are putting matters of prosody on the record at dVerse.

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    1. Thank you Rosemary. Love the verse you left and wish it had been there sooner. I may point folks back to it or copy it on future comments. I shall credit it to you unless you let me know another source.

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  37. Interesting dream poem....specially love 2 last lines... thanks for the lesson and prompt!

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  38. Thank you so much - I'm glad you came and met the challenge.

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  39. I personally love the music that you added - it works very subtly - you even manage hyphens, which is a great feat with feet! It has a lovely flow and yet none of the rhyme or meter is intrusive, only carries one along and adds to the dreamlike atmosphere. So sorry I missed the challenge. I may try to do later for OLN or something. Thanks much for your article. k.

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  40. I completely understand. Poetry, too, is use it or lose it I'm finding. Writing is not something I seem to will to happen by sitting down in front of a blank screen. And then there's everything else to do. So I appreciate that you came, you read, and you commented. That's enough. Thanks.

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