Posts: 173
From:
Registered: Nov 2010

posted April 14, 2013 02:08 AM            

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We are fierce drunk
sublimated to the cause
that transcends us

we tap those depths
and they spin out
like anything simple

run fresh like saplings
unafraid of their sure thing
mildly meandering

it cost us a quarrel
to discover this miracle
and let it sink bone deep

music won't summon
the demons that inspire
this precise madness

only silence emptied of self
rounds us like a wolf
to keep us chaste

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Posts: 75
From:
Registered: Dec 2012

posted April 14, 2013 01:58 PM            

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Writing exceedingly personal poems is quite difficult because the reader has to be satisfied too... I am unsure of how you use the preposition "of" in the 2nd line of the 3rd stanza - maybe "for" (in the sense of "because of") needs to be used there - unless I am misreading. Not sure of what the "cause" is - if it be love, for which it would be great if a hint were to dropped somewhere in the body of the poem itself, then looks like a good poem - but other than that, the poem sort of at least keeps me out because I don't know what the "cause" is. Umm... may I make a suggestion? If you have a meaning to the word "cause", and I am assuming you do - then try deleting that meaning from your mind as though you never knew it - then can you, by reading this poem come to conclude what "cause" is being spoken of? If not then maybe this poem needs reworking. Just my opinion.....I may be wrong.

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Posts: 75
From:
Registered: Dec 2012

posted April 14, 2013 02:01 PM            

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Then again the "cause" is something that transcends you and your muse. So the meaning of it might not be known in the immediate...

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Posts: 173
From:
Registered: Nov 2010

posted April 17, 2013 09:29 AM            

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When you are blind drunk,
you think you have a poem.

Never would have written these sober,
but I do like the last stanza here.

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