34 responses to “less human – triquain”

1. I admire the triquain chain Bjorn ~ Fall is coming here too and I am not reading the headlines lately from all the bad news ~ And that last verse sums it up for me ~

2. Beautifully done!

3. ‘horizon tangerine’ struck my imagination…and trees with secrets – too. ~ I like your triquan, very cool! 🙂

4. we know who are handling the loom to weave the warp and weft of these less human days…don’t know how to stop the machine…sigh

5. Standing and applauding — “with bloodstains on my hands for neglect to act / silent pressure cooker kept inside / thunderheads are growing” — really caught me, because I’ve been feeling that way too. And yet – life is great in some places and we never hear about it — because happy news doesn’t sell. I won’t ramble on here — just wanted you to know how much I love this poem. And the form really, really adds to the impact of the poem.

6. Bjorn, This summed up well the familiar and the distant disturbing facts for some. Well written. 🙂 —Susan

7. I am amazed how well this form fits your thought pattern here – the morning contemplation at season’s change, the outside world impinging on personal peace. The stanzas flow so naturally, one would never know that each syllable has been carefully counted.

8. Oh, you’ve dug deep today, Bjorn.
   The inner fear alleviated by some glimpses of hope which shine through.

9. I like the progression of this poem, going from the rainstorms in the weather to the thunderclouds in Iraq. Definitely some parallels there…as the price of gasoline continues to rise!

10. I like the depth of your poem, Björn. The news frighten me as horror seems to escalate a bit more every day. Sadly the news anchors focus on the sensational rather than on the beautiful, making us feel terribly helpless.

11. Good one!

12. i love how you blend that all together…the morning gentleness and freshness…the dark from the news about wars and things we hear to such things like gas prices… like life…

13. There is no form you can’t do . . . . and with such depth and feeling too.

14. Lovely use of form but, the words hold darkness and realities of life..I can feel your anguish..

15. This is heartbreaking, Björn. The first two lines of the second stanza made me stop hard. And breathe out memories of friends who hurt so much, who bleed so much for things that no longer make sense to me. My own blood was replenished, but the fact that I can’t do a thing for that heart that no longer beat weights heave on me. And if your words are any evidence, in you too…

16. So much too love here. You make the form suit you—love that–and despite the last stanza–you make me feel the frailty of my human form

17. It is sometimes very difficult to know what one can do other than to maintain some awareness and conscience. k.

18. The bloodstains are on all our hands….powerful triquain chain.

19. Bjorn,
    A varied synopsis of the state of the world, most of us awake to right now. A sad and dreary outlook, as painted by your words, and in the clever triquain form you have presented…The human input is depressing; only just rescued by the marvels of nature and the colours we recognise..
    Eileen

20. Stunning, Bjorn. Most excellent. Fall is in the air here too…

21. I like the way you draw the contrast between peace in nature and the disturbance in the world. There has been too much bad news lately. I see some hope in the tangerine horizon. 🙂

22. I hear you, Bjorn, and it could not be said any better.

23. Oh! “I blend its earthen smell into my morning tea”
    “with bloodstains on my hands for neglect to act” Oh!
    “that never a reporter care to write about”
    :And the trees secrets, and the growing despite the better harvests ….

    No, there is no way to quote this poem back to you, Bjorn. It is perfect in progression and tone from pressure cooker through bling, from dawn until tomorrow.

24. silent pressure cooker kept inside
    thunderheads are growing –
    silent rage

    Very true! One feels so helpless seeing all the conflicts around the world. Killings should stop first before debates but it is the other way round. Great trio Bjorn!

    Hank

25. I was hooked right from your tangerine sky. Your rage is shared. I feel it too when I pick up the paper. You summed up the process of feeling less human extremely well. I only wish that these sentiments weren’t so accurate. This is well-written and deeply felt.

26. As poets we have a voice but we speak to a public that has no ears, but we must not stop shouting.

27. Amazing! To say so much in the boundaries of a form…I applaud you

28. maybe if we were all a little less human, the world would be a better place. one note- in the first stanza, are you familiar with the word “petrichor”? – it means, roughly, earthen smell, as after rain ~

    • I am — it’s a lovely great word, but at this time I didn’t want to use it..

29. less human… yes, indeed. less human all the time, is how i feel. this is very stark and yet somehow comforting, thank you.

30. I love this for its truth. I too feel the contrast of the beauty around me versus the turmoil in this world. And the sting of guilt for doing nothing irks me. Yet, I don’t know what to do, except to focus on the beauty and hope that somehow that grows. Lovely write Bjorn. My heart felt this.

31. So beautiful .. we had that rain last night, warm tangerine sunshine this morning. Big sigh after reading your chained triquain!

32. These are really wonderful Bjorn, and I like that they work together, or can each stand alone, complete.

33. Well done capturing the pain of dying a little every day.

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