Poem XIX

[YaMarVa]

I recently started writing poetry to assist my writing in other projects, this is a poem from my first collection of attempts. Thanks for reading.



XIX

Hark, the grand symphony of the Canyonlands!

From flat ground you orchestrate your concert

Deep in timeless form,

Retarding my place in the present.

Your multitude of layers, weathered,

Exposes nature’s gallery of fine-arts;

As nothing compares in composition

To what has been shown beneath your cover.

Let the drainage from the High Colorado Rockies

Deform your face; Scar, mold, and wound.

Let the harsh winds and storm-clouds chagrin

Over the vast Basin and Range

To cosset your formation.

From the eternity of slow movements,

To impacts sudden,

I see with my eyes of the present,

Your simple definition of time.

I feel the flush breeze

That silks your scarlet face smooth,

Forming the features I witness Divine.

Or on high ground,

to the Canyon’s bottom, either

Can I pertain to measure my dictum of place.

Rescind from the wallows of Man

Joggling in the pinnacle of society,

To the Canyonlands!

Where by peer glimpse, all the façades

Bestowed a man, amount little

To the limits of a revived visual-latency.

I pour the blood of god

Dripped red on these walls, pervaded its stain

So graceful for our divine exposure

That I have sought hard to witness.

[jkaram]

Hi Yamarva. I enjoyed your poem which spoke to me of awe in nature as art. it was a pleasurable read even more so that because you pushed it further to relating the (I'm assuming) Grand Canyon to an art exhibit and orchestra. I think you were successful in keeping this theme throughout, and I liked the toast of wine at the end. A couple other things to consider: "Hark!" perhaps because there's such a strong association with the popular Christmas carol, is a little off-putting for me. Also, I wasn't sure if the double pacing between each line was intentional? If so, I think the poem's form and readability would increase with some kind of structure. I've made some additional comments in response to some of your lines, just some things to consider:

XIX

Hark, the grand symphony of the Canyonlands!

From flat ground you orchestrate your concert

Deep in timeless form,

Retarding my place in the present.

Your multitude of layers, weathered,

Exposes nature’s gallery of fine-arts; [consider: nature's gallery- art]

As nothing compares in composition

To what has been shown beneath your cover.

Let the drainage from the High Colorado Rockies

Deform your face; Scar, mold, and wound. [consider carve instead of scar- some of your readers may have a negative emotional response to scar(and the fact that you've capitalized it makes it speak louder, for better or worse), carve is more neutral choice from this standpoint].

Let the harsh winds and storm-clouds chagrin

Over the vast Basin and Range

To cosset your formation. [cosset doesn't seem to fit]

From the eternity of slow movements,

To impacts sudden,

I see with my eyes of the present, [I see with my present eyes?]

Your simple definition of time.

I feel the flush breeze

That silks your scarlet face smooth, [the syntax here seems odd, maybe silks as a verb only confuses me?]

Forming the features I witness Divine.

Or on high ground, [this seems redundant, echoing the previous line]

to the Canyon’s bottom, either

Can I pertain to measure my dictum of place. [I'm lost to the meaning you intend here]

Rescind from the wallows of Man

Joggling in the pinnacle of society,

To the Canyonlands!

Where by peer glimpse, all the façades

Bestowed a man, amount little

To the limits of a revived visual-latency.

I pour the blood of god

Dripped red on these walls, pervaded its stain

So graceful for our divine exposure

That I have sought hard to witness. [This line weakens your ending and I think you could leave it off (doesn't seem to add to your previous lines and falls a little flat for me]
[/quote]

Thanks for sharing your poem, I think it's a great start.

[Brownlie]

I recently started writing poetry to assist my writing in other projects, this is a poem from my first collection of attempts. Thanks for reading.



XIX

Hark, the grand symphony of the Canyonlands! --Sounds like Walt Whitman
From flat ground you orchestrate your concert

Deep in timeless form,

Retarding my place in the present.

Your multitude of layers, weathered, --I like the idea of the layers that could be a good extended metaphor.

Exposes nature’s gallery of fine-arts;

As nothing compares in composition

To what has been shown beneath your cover.

Let the drainage from the High Colorado Rockies

Deform your face; Scar, mold, and wound.

Let the harsh winds and storm-clouds chagrin

Over the vast Basin and Range

To cosset your formation.

From the eternity of slow movements,

To impacts sudden,

I see with my eyes of the present,

Your simple definition of time.

I feel the flush breeze

That silks your scarlet face smooth,

Forming the features I witness Divine. -- Ya your really sounding like Whitman to me

Or on high ground,

to the Canyon’s bottom, either

Can I pertain to measure my dictum of place.

Rescind from the wallows of Man

Joggling in the pinnacle of society,

To the Canyonlands!

Where by peer glimpse, all the façades

Bestowed a man, amount little

To the limits of a revived visual-latency.

I pour the blood of god

Dripped red on these walls, pervaded its stain

So graceful for our divine exposure

That I have sought hard to witness.

The Grand Canyon is a great and rich image I would go beyond praising it and recognizing its awesomeness (I mean awe inspiring and greatness of magnitude not awesome in terms of dude idiom).

[YaMarVa]

Thanks for the comments, I take them encouragingly.

Also, the peom is about Canyonlands NP not the Grand Canyon.

I have not read too much Whitman since HS, but I'll take your word for it. Thanks?