Blind

[tectak]

Blind

In gloss of pearl the prim and petalled wrap keeps secret
all that bees see as their own. The tulip opens wide to winds
of March, that blast and blow then dries the bloom.
Black is the flower.

Up high and rare, the air that thins carries light from suns in time.
No sight outlooks the flaming globes, but space the ink of depth belies
to blank the years in distant robes, folded in to shaded shawls.
Black is the sky.

A man can stand and cry at death, when sparks of life he watches fade;
no deeper grave, no silent tomb, no prison sealed against the day
can ever make a soul despair save for the empty sightless stare.
Black is blind.

tectak
2014.

[ray]

I like it. I probably need read it a couple more times but here's what I thought anyway.

 In gloss of pearl the prim and petalled wrap keeps secret 
all that bees see as their own. The tulip opens wide to winds   - Immediately I thought hid is better than secret. The line flows better and there's a near rhyme with
of March, that blast and blow then dries the bloom.                -   winds. Then I heard secret/bees see and maybe you're right. dry the bloom?


No sight outlooks the flaming globes, but space the ink of depth belies   - I don't get the first half of the lines. Do you mean outstares? For me,
but space the depth of ink would be very much better.


A man can stand and cry at death, when sparks of life he watches fade;  - ideally, watches needs be past tense, don't you think? Maybe it works as it is.

[tectak]

I like it. I probably need read it a couple more times but here's what I thought anyway.

 In gloss of pearl the prim and petalled wrap keeps secret 
all that bees see as their own. The tulip opens wide to winds   - Immediately I thought hid is better than secret. The line flows better and there's a near rhyme with
of March, that blast and blow then dries the bloom.                -   winds. Then I heard secret/bees see and maybe you're right. dry the bloom?


No sight outlooks the flaming globes, but space the ink of depth belies   - I don't get the first half of the lines. Do you mean outstares? For me,
but space the depth of ink would be very much better.


A man can stand and cry at death, when sparks of life he watches fade;  - ideally, watches needs be past tense, don't you think? Maybe it works as it is.

Thanks ray,
I think I tried too hard, fell short, and you caught me. I won't excuse my word choices except as colonial "Hid" would be wrong...hidden right...but would not mean the same as secret.
"bloom", noun, flower. "a bloom".
Then I go all obscure. You are right. There is a puzzle in the dark sky. If it is full of galactic suns why is it black? The reason can be researched....it is not poetically important...except in this poem where "blackness" is being defined as a parameter of vision. I clearly bungled it. Needs a rehash but "outlooks" will probably stay as it means what it says. I thought about it a good deal.
For the rest...there's none so blind as those who will not see.. Sums it up, I hope
Best and thanks,
edit will come,
tectal

[bena]

I have issues with critiquing your poetry...perhaps it's my bias but I always think they are damn near perfect already. You may think you went all ambiguous, but hell, I took the leap with you and was never lost. This reminds me a bit of Plath, and while some people say Plath is overrated, I completely adore her style. So where is the critique? There is none.

Black is black....I want my baby back.

[Erthona]

Tom,

I am fairly sure I have already and recently commented on this as I see you have removed the "soundless air" part of the second stanza. Is the other one somewhere else or did you just wipe it?

dale

[tectak]

I have issues with critiquing your poetry...perhaps it's my bias but I always think they are damn near perfect already.  You may think you went all ambiguous, but hell, I took the leap with you and was never lost.  This reminds me a bit of Plath, and while some people say Plath is overrated, I completely adore her style. So where is the critique?  There is none.  

Black is black....I want my baby back.

Hi bena,
You are too kind....I think.
I confess to editing on line which drives dale crazy as he is at that stage in life when he is unsure if his foot is his own, let alone his thoughts
I mention this because unless you jump on my stuff pretty quickly it changes before your eyes. This may be ethically a little short of moral but shit, it's how I roll.
Best and thanks,
tectak

[tectak]

Tom,

I am fairly sure I have already and recently commented on this as I see you have removed the "soundless air" part of the second stanza. Is the other one somewhere else or did you just wipe it?

dale

hi dale,
yep...there is an edit up. I cannot help you decide which is which as I don't know where you are looking
Best,
tectak

[Erthona]

Where I always look, under you ass in your "threads" post, this is the only one there by that title, which has the same title as the other one. I suspect tomfoolery afoot.


Da

[tectak]

Where I always look, under you ass in your "threads" post, this is the only one there by that title, which has the same title as the other one. I suspect tomfoolery afoot.


Da

No . Look for Blind edit 1.001(?) ray.
Are you blind?
Best,
tectak

[vagabond]

Blind

In gloss of pearl the prim and petalled wrap keeps secret
all that bees see as their own. The tulip opens wide to winds
of March, that blast and blow then dries the bloom.
Black is the flower.

Up high and rare, the air that thins carries light from suns in time.
No sight outlooks the flaming globes, but space the ink of depth belies
to blank the years in distant robes, folded in to shaded shawls.          why " years" when i thought it´s about space?
Black is the sky.

A man can stand and cry at death, when sparks of life he watches fade;
no deeper grave, no silent tomb, no prison sealed against the day
can ever make a soul despair save for the empty sightless stare.
Black is blind.

tectak
2014.

one of the poems that make me think but i don´t seem to be able to understand it fully.
 you don´t see the flower if only watching it decay, and you don´t see the stars if your mind is kind of a vacuum like space where light cannot shine on. ... my words are a mess.
don´t even know if  an attempted interpretation is welcome, since that´s of no use to you.

[tectak]

Blind

In gloss of pearl the prim and petalled wrap keeps secret
all that bees see as their own. The tulip opens wide to winds
of March, that blast and blow then dries the bloom.
Black is the flower.

Up high and rare, the air that thins carries light from suns in time.
No sight outlooks the flaming globes, but space the ink of depth belies
to blank the years in distant robes, folded in to shaded shawls.          why " years" when i thought it´s about space?
Black is the sky.

A man can stand and cry at death, when sparks of life he watches fade;
no deeper grave, no silent tomb, no prison sealed against the day
can ever make a soul despair save for the empty sightless stare.
Black is blind.

tectak
2014.

one of the poems that make me think but i don´t seem to be able to understand it fully.
 you don´t see the flower if only watching it decay, and you don´t see the stars if your mind is kind of a vacuum like space where light cannot shine on. ... my words are a mess.
don´t even know if  an attempted interpretation is welcome, since that´s of no use to you.

Thank you for your comments. Most grateful.Time and space are inexorably linked. It is called space-time. Light travels most economically in a vacuum. Sound not at all. There are lots of things to read including the edited version of this.
Best,
tectak