Parola

[Philatone]

A word
Is a passion,
A single
Candlelit night
After a thunderstorm,
A firefly
In a just opened jar.

This
Is a word.

It will not
Bring flowers
To your door
In a straw basket.

It will not
Pay gratuity
In a restaurant
With change from its red purse.

A ferry,
It ships our children away
When it is time for them
To be buried
In slumber.

A bucket,
It draws embers
From the bottom of its well.

A scar,
It fastens
Onto the cadence
Of your voice,

And with
Every breath, every whisper
I cannot help
But think of a word

As a passenger boarding
On a crowding train
Destined to reach you
From me.

[billy]

A word
Is a passion,
A single
Candlelit night
After a thunderstorm,
A firefly
In a just opened jar.

This
Is a word. don't mock but this play on a word is my fave part of the poem

It will not
Bring flowers
To your door
In a straw basket.

It will not
Pay gratuity
In a restaurant
With change from its red purse.

A ferry,
It ships our children away
When it is time for them
To be buried
In slumber.

A bucket,
It draws embers
From the bottom of its well.

A scar,
It fastens
Onto the cadence
Of your voice,

And with
Every breath, every whisper
I cannot help
But think of a word

As a passenger boarding
On a crowding train (i love the use of crowding, it's a prefect image (did you mean crowded? i hope not)
Destined to reach you
From me.

the title had me, i kept thinking of parole () so i looked it it up, all i could find was; Tagalog for lighthouse.

i suppose you could have gone through the dictionary but i'm glad you didn't hehe, what you used was almost perfect in the lead up to the last stanza, (i changed my mind, after a few reads that is my favourite part.
you would think a poem about the "word" or "A" word would be boring (i've read a lot in this style which are) but non of that with this.
i read it a few times now and it reads better each time, in the first read it made me think "is this right, should it be like that" in places and i realized it was me which wasn't quite right in the reading of it (does that make sense)
if i had a nit it was this stanza


A bucket,
It draws embers
From the bottom of its well.

i couldn't get a grip on the metaphor (it could just be me but it's true)

thanks for the read and hope to see some more of your poetry

[addy]

A word
Is a passion, for me "passion" as a descriptor doesn't add much to the poem... just my opinion
A single
Candlelit night
After a thunderstorm,
A firefly
In a just opened jar. Lovely image--- quiet, simple, and dynamic all at once

This
Is a word. Very clever. Works when read in different ways.

It will not
Bring flowers
To your door
In a straw basket.

It will not
Pay gratuity
In a restaurant
With change from its red purse. Even though I very much liked the idea and the sense of it, this stanza worked the least for me, though I'm having trouble putting my finger on why. "In a restaurant" somehow strikes me as a stagnant, perfuntory line ; and "red" seemed like an afterthought descriptor, used in a way that doesn't add much hidden meaning or dimension to the line

A ferry,
It ships our children away
When it is time for them
To be buried
In slumber.

A bucket,
It draws embers
From the bottom of its well. Like billy I don't recognize the logic of the image (you expect water from a well, not embers), but it is so damn compelling that it just works. It is perfect as is.

A scar,
It fastens
Onto the cadence
Of your voice,

And with
Every breath, every whisper
I cannot help
But think of a word

As a passenger boarding
On a crowding train
Destined to reach you
From me. Beautiful, pitch-perfect end.

A wonderful read. Thanks for sharing this.

Welcome to the forums

[Ca ne fait rien]

I really like the seemingly random and everyday sort of descriptors, like 'red purse' , 'straw basket', juxtaposed with the (for wnat of a better word) synathaesia of

"A scar,
It fastens
Onto the cadence
Of your voice,"

and
"
A bucket,
It draws embers
From the bottom of its well."



Semantics. For some things in life, they just don't work. That is why we have poetry, and for this reader, this is poetry. I wish I had more time right now to do a proper crit, but just wanted to say something, I enjoyed so much.

[billy]

this is a fine crit for the mild critique forum Steff

[Philatone]

To open, I would like to say thanks for such the positive feedback. I've been heavy into Pablo Neruda for the last year, and his almost spiritual connection to everything. That is how I found such, at-times, contradictory images, though how he manages most of what he manages evades me by a mile.

I will have a peak at the stanza with the bucket and the red purse; "red" actually came first to me but if it seems too much, I can find an eraser. I feel as though a little energy is lost without it though, I have to admit. The bucket had to have something else otherwise it would get lost; I think it still has a bit of its original sense though and I like it

Oh and for the last stanza, originally I had it as "crowded" but it I wanted motion, a sense of something that hasn't finished, and something that flowed a little more with "boarding;" I'm glad you like it too, bill!
Thanks again, much appreciated!

[Todd]

Hi Philatone,

I enjoyed the imagery in this piece. A few comments for you:

A word
Is a passion,
A single
Candlelit night
After a thunderstorm,
A firefly
In a just opened jar.--while I absolutely love the images here especially the firefly in a just opened jar (awesome), I don't find that these images in themselves contain a passion an infatuation maybe but a passion would seem to be a conflageration rather than a candle. Just my thoughts

This
Is a word.

It will not
Bring flowers
To your door
In a straw basket.--love the detail

It will not
Pay gratuity
In a restaurant
With change from its red purse.

A ferry,
It ships our children away
When it is time for them
To be buried
In slumber.

A bucket,
It draws embers
From the bottom of its well.--I really like this part. You expect water and what you get is embers. I like that it is its well. I like that words can ignite

A scar,
It fastens
Onto the cadence
Of your voice,--My favorite part of the poem. I love the idea of it.

And with
Every breath, every whisper
I cannot help
But think of a word

As a passenger boarding
On a crowding train--is on needed?
Destined to reach you
From me.

Very solid poem! Welcome to the forums!

Best,

Todd

[billy]

To open, I would like to say thanks for such the positive feedback. I've been heavy into Pablo Neruda for the last year, and his almost spiritual connection to everything. That is how I found such, at-times, contradictory images, though how he manages most of what he manages evades me by a mile.

I will have a peak at the stanza with the bucket and the red purse; "red" actually came first to me but if it seems too much, I can find an eraser. I feel as though a little energy is lost without it though, I have to admit. The bucket had to have something else otherwise it would get lost; I think it still has a bit of its original sense though and I like it

Oh and for the last stanza, originally I had it as "crowded" but it I wanted motion, a sense of something that hasn't finished, and something that flowed a little more with "boarding;" I'm glad you like it too, bill!
Thanks again, much appreciated!

addy is a fan of neruda, (she's easily pleased )
crowding over crowded;
it worked well for me because on a crowding a train is a better image than on a crowded train

[Wildcard]

Coming in a little late but I did want to cast a vote for 'crowding' as well. It has a lot of kinetic energy for the poem and it gives me a sense of dynamics. I loved 'it fastens to the cadence of your voice' and 'It will not bring flowers to your door in a straw basket'. This is a great poem about the building blocks of language. Thanks for sharing.