Non-erotic poetry (that is, Poetry)

[_Land]

Very few ever comment on my writing here. I would appreciate some valuable feed back on this however if you would be so kind.
I swore off trying to rhyme in anything to serious back in 2003 after being challenged here in the forum. Outside of trying different forms as a challenge to my creative capabilities. Fuck you Sonnets

I digress.... I would like a little feedback on this if you could spare a few moments, I would be very grateful
Your overall thoughts and specifically if the use of the word lie (to different meanings) throws this off course ?

The Truth of Small Universes
by Bear Sage

A laced-winged gnat on a thistle vine,
knows time by dew and shadow line
a drop is flood, a breeze is quake,
and gods are those that petals make.
Its sky is stitched in thread and thorn,
its dusk, a fog of pollen born.


A fieldmouse scurries through woven wheat,
with thunder pulsed in kestrel beat.
It reads the grass by scent and bend,
each broken stalk a whispered end.
Its kingdom crowned in root and seed,
a world that shifts with fox or weed.


The kestrel rides on columns blue,
maps truth in twitching fur below.
Each gust a gate, each spiral turn
a prayer for claws and hunger’s burn.
It hunts by math the mouse can’t see,
a theorem drawn in gravity.


The hawk is stalked by weather’s hand,
storm systems bloom where clouds expand.
Winds dictate paths the feather flies
its gospel inked in pressure skies.
The thunderhead, a preacher bold,
who speaks in flash and breaks the fold.


The forest listens with spongy ear,
decades deep in rings unclear.
It does not flinch at blood or bone
just weaves them in and grows its own.
Its gospel: silence, rot, and leaf
truth composted beyond belief.


Above, the stars in ancient drift
write symphonies the cosmos lifts.
But they burn blind to gnat or hawk,
indifferent in their endless walk.
Each orbit sings in molten scale,
unmoved by hunger, claw, or trail.


Yet here we stand, within our scope,
declaring truth through lens and hope.
Not knowing what we’ve never known,
each verdict carved from self alone.
We call things fact, we brand them real
but truth is shaped by what we feel.


And so the bug, the mouse, the kite,
all navigate a different night.
No gospel wrong, no cosmos lie,
just windows framed by where we lie.

We are not bound by the truths they see,
but only the limits of our own galaxy.


For truth does not walk straight in line
it spirals, loops, forgets, refines.
It doubles back through time and thread,
alive in what is left unsaid.
A map redrawn with every glance,
a song that changes as we dance.

 

[Angeline]

Ok Land I read your poem. It's a long series of couplets that mostly rhyme: blue and below don't (but that's probably an easy fix with Rhymezone). Lie and lie are more problematic. Cosmic works better than cosmos imo but if it were me I'd try to avoid repeating a word, even when the meaning changes. Aside from blue/below it sticks out as being the only repetition in place of rhyme.

Also with this long of a poem (50+ lines) you might want to consider breaking it into parts. It's a long read. And to me it's arguable whether a forest or a starry sky is a small universe. Compared to a gnat or fieldmouse, even a hawk, it feels off. And overall I think you could cut back a fair amount without losing meaning and probably increase accessibility.

All just my opinion. Hope you find it useful. If not, no worries.

 

[WCSGarland]

TEMPEST

Our love is but a tempest,
A storm-tossed sea.
With the depth and breadth,
Deep and dark,
As passionate as the sea.
With push and pull,
And give and take,
A power without measure.
A treasure trove of mystery,
And also, understanding.
Calm in places,
Not unlike the eye of a hurricane,
And underneath,
A gentle wash of warmth,
And sometimes cool.
Fed as the seas,
By the winds,
The breath of God.
Our love is but a tempest,
A storm-tossed sea.

 

[_Land]

Ok Land I read your poem. It's a long series of couplets that mostly rhyme: blue and below don't (but that's probably an easy fix with Rhymezone). Lie and lie are more problematic. Cosmic works better than cosmos imo but if it were me I'd try to avoid repeating a word, even when the meaning changes. Aside from blue/below it sticks out as being the only repetition in place of rhyme.

Also with this long of a poem (50+ lines) you might want to consider breaking it into parts. It's a long read. And to me it's arguable whether a forest or a starry sky is a small universe. Compared to a gnat or fieldmouse, even a hawk, it feels off. And overall I think you could cut back a fair amount without losing meaning and probably increase accessibility.

All just my opinion. Hope you find it useful. If not, no worries.

Thank you for taking the time Angeline
If I'm honest I was so bothered by the Lie Lie I didn't catch the Blue/Below.... I had meant to fix that

 

[melimelissa]

Each Day

Traditionally I fall in love with you many more times,
Each day, than the drum beat counts of my heart;
Gathering strength from love's weakness re-aligns
Hope, shifting it from frustrations sans prevarication;

If we stop cursing, hesitation to reconnect may be resolved:
Soft affection need not cede to harsher demands; who pays
The piper for the unwanted tune called? For your flag for me?
Will you thoroughly plant it in the most vital, loving territory?

If daily love is captured, conquered, and then wholly owned;
Can you please, please take me (not for granted); I will sigh,
Because we will always really heed love; so I moan
My traditional song of falling in love with you, each day.

Méli