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Viceroy

March 31, 2006

The tender latent beauty,
enclosed within the screen.
Impressions of a riddle,
the simple truths unseen.

Holding on so tightly,
cocooned in woven casement,
scars cleverly glossed over
with silken green arrangements.

So shy the monarch brilliance,
Spring Azure, Daggerwing,
your solstice burning just beyond
the Mourning Cloaked within.

Oh the words, the tender phrases
soft petals of your voices,
coax the nectar from beyond
these wintered-over choices.

Remnants torn from wilted cage
dormant jewel now beating.
the Swallowtail upon the wind,
sweet sacrament of breathing.

~ Susan J. Preston


Somehow, it came to be Poetry Thursday yesterday. I'm not sure how, but many of the blogs I'm reading are posting poems on Thursdays. Something tells me I've missed something, afterall, it is Friday. I want in on this game, not only because I love poems, but I see myself are an archetypal poet.

Archetypal poet?

I don't write poetry often enough to substantiate labeling myself as one, rather, I have a compulsion to find the beauty surrounding me, especially in the commonplace. In this sense, most artists are poets. We express a longing in our souls for meaning and find ways to communicate our discoveries. There's a reason Edna St. Vincent Millay's eyes hover over everything I do here... truly.

Something I love about poems, and it took me awhile to figure this out, is it's okay not to fully grasp one's meaning. Some of the best poems leave you wondering what they are about, you have an idea, and a feeling, but you can't be too sure. Sometimes, this stems from the poet not completely knowing what her verse is about. The words simply flowed through them onto the page, and they represent a feeling or an intention. Poems falling into this category can be quite profound, because they leave the interpretation up to the reader. Allowing a poem to sink into your skin and finding your own truth within it, is ~ in a word ~ wonderful.

And, all good art is like this ~ inviting us to engage ourselves and interact with it. Maybe you come to the conclusion the poet is wrong, or disturbed or enlightened ~ seeing life through the soul of another invites us to open and widen. Elasticity in life helps us bend with the wind, instead of toppling over.

If I'm getting a tad esoteric, then so be it... perhaps what I'm saying will spark you to come to your own unique and different conclusion. Maybe disagreeing with me will lead you on a path that changes the world for the better. Or, maybe my words will make us realize how interconnected our feelings and experiences of being human truly are. The possibilities are endless.

There's a reason I am refraining from explaining my poem at the top of the screen. I'd rather leave it up to you to decide, blending it into your own life experiences to see if it resonnates ~ or not.

Posted by vincent at March 31, 2006 10:01 AM

Comments

i LOVE this - and you've hit on something i too believe. the best part of a story, poem, piece of art or image is that we all bring ourselves to it, our truth to it. i don't know if you've read parker palmer's 'a hidden wholeness' but he uses this similar idea and takes it a step further in that it is in intereacting with the story or poem that it can bring healing and wholeness. and this poem does so for me today. thank you!

Posted by: bobbie at March 31, 2006 11:03 AM

Bobbie,

I took a trip to amazon.com and read the "look inside" section of Palmer's A Hidden Wholeness. My interest has been piqued. This is on my list of books to read now. thanks~

Posted by: Susan at March 31, 2006 11:26 AM

"Something I love about poems, and it took me awhile to figure this out, is it's okay not to fully grasp one's meaning."

Thanks for that. I always felt so stupid when I didn't "get" what a poet was saying.

Posted by: aola at March 31, 2006 04:46 PM

BTW I thought yours was beautiful.

Posted by: aola at March 31, 2006 04:47 PM

"Archetypal" perhaps, but a poet nonetheless...

Very nicely done, Susan.

Posted by: dan at March 31, 2006 06:14 PM

Yay! You've decided to do Poetry Thursday. Goodie!

(I love disturbed poets, by the way.)

Posted by: Lynn at March 31, 2006 07:26 PM

Just as soon as you think you know em'
They spring forth with a flowery poem
Though you've known them all this time
And not once heard their lips sprout rhyme
It brings out great consternation
When they shout forth with allitteration
Perhaps I should think more on it
And wait till she writes a sonnet

Posted by: Robert White at April 1, 2006 07:10 AM

I like your idea- I've always felt that a big part of art is the relationship between the viewer/reader/listener and the artist. When viewing paintings- I am always caught up in the detail of the brushstrokes, imagining the artist at work- After letting the image of a photograph sink in, I picture the photographer actually on location trying dozens of angles, hoping to end up with the perfect one and what were they feeling based on the feeling of the photograph. When I don't understand a poem, I spend time trying to picture the poet's life based on what I know of them, even if it is very little... and I try to use that understanding as some sort of insight into the poem. I think all of this relates back to empathy and art's ability to bring complete strangers together, if only in a small way.

Posted by: windy at April 1, 2006 08:56 AM

Poetry. The hated part of an English class. Write on demand. Make it rhyme. Due in two weeks. No wonder so many of us are scared to death of the word let alone a book of collected poetry. Yours is lovely, one to be read many times during many moods. Art in any form reaches the depths of our soul as we read, view, hear and our soul responds from deep inside our many experiences. And that is the conversation we have with the artist. It is special. It is sacred.

Posted by: janet at April 2, 2006 06:34 PM