you talk with sprockets smooth from oil and grease
like bullets from an AK-47
but coming home I find you lost your ease
and walk in muddy boots invading heaven
you talk with blankets from a limping horse
like tempests quenched by forest canopies
I see your passion’s lost to sorcerer’s force
but in your eyes I see those purgatories
am I the magic wand that kills your voice?
am I your horseman of apocalypse?
like dying lilies, will you refine your choice?
is this just the darkness from a brief eclipse?
you raise the bridges cross your midnight moat
and like Orpheus I will enter Charon’s boat
Charon by Gustave Dore (from Wikimedia Commons)
Today Anna helps us to learn conceit. Those unexpected contrasts that helps create poetry by surprise working like extended metaphors. Hope I stretched myself enough.
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November 28, 2013
Björn Rudbergs writings 
dang. so well done and tight man…starting with the AK47 bullets you set us at unease a bit…am i the horseman of your apocalypse is a great eye catcher as well…whew…well played…mine will be up this afternoon…
You don’t do anything by halves, do you Bjorn 🙂 Stuffed full of conceit nuggets, this one. How do you dream thme up?I had trouble producing two, rather limping ones.
S
Ah! Loved it. A wonderful creation.
“you talk with blankets from a limping horse like tempests quenched by forest canopies”- Superb. And the ending is plain amazing. 🙂
This is so rich and juicy. I loved every word.
oh you did well… great images…the bullets… dang… the horseman of apocalypse…. love what you wove into this…the contrasts are great but it also plays great together… nice
At The Military Academy I was taught being “son of a gun” in fact is positive. That idiom is a “conceit”. But being a gun? Gosh, That is like illuminating a forget-me-not by an ice cream machine. Well done, Bjørn, Your writings are provocative, and by this poem you are visible. I wonder what you write in Swedish. I expect sensitive love poems. *smile*
ATT VARA GRANNAR
Att vara grannar i en äng
är skojigt, delat undring nått.
At vara grannar i en säng
är farligt, utan framtid fått.
·:| † |:·
Wonderful images combined with mythology. I wasn’t so sure about the idea of ‘conceit,’ but I liked what you did with this poem.
This is a wow at your manipulation of the images, and in rhyme, too. Bravo.
Nice I love the line in your eyes I see the purgatories…an intriguing and somewhat dark poem I think!
You use a lot of striking metaphors. I enjoyed the mythological references.
Per your self-imposed high standards, you blew the damn socks off the prompt, brother! You used a classic form, and still one was not aware of it secondary to the punch & raw power of your conceit analogies; really dug it.
Wow. This is so good. I love the images and the dialogue. So well done!
I knew you’d have an amazing conceit but I think you took this to another level of writing. My mind is only finding “I think that I shall never see a poem as lovely as a tree…”
Cool poem. Really plays on the idea of homecoming and the line “you talk with blankets from a limping horse” is awesome. Besides, the character of Charon has been on my mind lately and this poem felt psychic. Thanks.
Bjorn – especially loved the phrase – blankets from a limping horse.. and the dying lilies.. your poems are like the bullets you mention:) they fly at you with power..
Once again I missed the deadline but wrote for the prompt anyway…this piece is unbelievable! I have a lot to learn from you and dVerse….
We are all learning all the time … Reading and reading all the time. Why don’t you link it up on Tuesday 😉
So so true! Thanks brother..I will.