The cantaloupe’s still sleeping
on water vapor condensation
rising from the sugar crested waves,
to meet Calabrian pine-trees’ need,
pregnant with its listless waiting.
The fog weighs pelts of sheep with smells
from red-rimmed bars and chestnut smoke,
as dead are coming through the waning mist
the melon-sun is slowly waking
and graves are opened for their men to rest.
At this moment,
I feel the pain of longing most.
Your absent songs could fill these voids
and turn the smells of fog from death
to our honeysuckled spring again.
Tonight Grace inspire us the with the poetry of Salvatore Quasimodo at Toads. My poem is inspired of some of his images of death and seaside mountain slopes. I will also link this to Poetry Pantry
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November 8, 2014
Björn Rudbergs writings 
The pain of longing in this poem is palpable, Bjorn. I think after someone or something is gone we yearn for the void left by the loss to be filled again. And with the passing of time, sometimes it is. (And the smell of fog in one’s life transitions to the smell of spring!)
The longing before the melon sun rises and dispels the mist or the fog ~ You captured the moment well ~ (Did you mean honeysuckled?)
Thanks for participating Bjorn ~ Happy Weekend ~
Indeed I mean the honeysuckled 🙂
The mighty mountains have seen it all, the movements of tectonic plates, the upheaval, degradation and still they stand tall, absorbing all the pain.
oy – i wasn’t prepared for the dead in the mist… it’s like a volta that rings in and underlines the longing expressed in the following verses..
Strong images, Bjorn, from voids and absences to spring. Yes.
Hopefully, in spite of the loss, pain and missing, we will come to appreciate spring again.
You captured the themes of Salvatore poignantly, Bjorn…love the, “sugar crested waves.” 🙂
I could feel the loss of warmth in the wet, misty lines and how sadness is slowly filling the void shrouding everything in the first stanza…but there’s the honeysuckled spring not far behind..poignant and beautiful.
How easily you transported us there to the scents and sounds of a distant place and that hopeful yearning.
This is amazing poetry, Bjorn! That first stanza is a tour de force and your inclusion of the human connection in the second brings the whole to another level of cognitive experience. One of my favourites of yours.
Bjorn, I’m guessing perhaps this is a piece about the aftermath of war. Some things never change, but war brings change to accompany them. Well written. 🙂 — Suzanne
foggy mountain is always mysterious. i’m reading this as a waiting for spring to come poem 🙂
Amazing piece, Bjorn! The yearning inside keeps burning despite all what life throws at you…from voids to honey suckled spring. Lovely!
These images resonate like vines heavy with ripe and pungent grapes–a sense I had with all of our model’s poems. How lovely and evocative the cantaloupe, melon sun, the pines, the sheep wool — the absence, the void, the one with whom you would walk.
Very original imagery! Captivating. K.
Absolutely, as usual exquisite – as are the stunning images here this Sunday
Oh, how beautiful…the ache is palpable.
exquisite! there’s a ethereal feel to the imagery. 🙂
Luv your photos at Poetry Pantry today, really awesome, thanks for sharing this lovely treatise of hope and longing also
Happy you dropped in at my blog
Have a good Sunday
much love…
I love the moment of connection with sun, it’s sounds so atmospheric: ‘the melon-sun is slowly waking
and graves are opened for their men to rest.’
Beautiful alliteration in the poem x
love this… love the honeysuckle! though i thought for a split-second that honeydew was making an appearance 🙂
What a way to describe feelings of loss and memories pulled up from what is happening around us. Great poem.
oh the fall season is slowly unfolding and the canteloupe is asleep to rise again in the spring time. a longing plea for spring i’d say.
At this moment,
I feel the pain of longing most.
Your absent songs could fill these voids
Pangs of yearnings and loneliness can affect one when thinking of the loved ones. Great lines Bjorn!
Hank
What a beautiful poem and I love the source of the inspiration. Just gorgeous!
Your title alone sucked me in. Very nice imagery here, Bjorn 🙂
Absolutely gorgeous! The melon sun, the fog….”your absent songs could…..turn the smells from death to our honeysuckled spring again.” The longing is palpable. Beautiful work, Bjorn.
The contrast of waning mist to the heaviness of longing….makes this such a richly evocative piece, Bjorn!
What a powerful poem Bjorn! I do hope you will participate in the Gratitude Quilt this year it is simple to do and will make your heart happy when you see the love unfurl on Nov 27th. Instructions and a link explaining this project if you don’t know about it yet can be found at the top of my blog, if I’ve already asked you I apologize for being annoying 🙂
This is so loaded I fell on my mental arse! Each line begged for an answer. 🙂
The pain of longings such anguish..
Beautiful use of words.
The pain of longing is not quite like any other pain. It kind of overtakes a person. I like this poem.
I felt the feeling here, Bjorn. Being absent from your country while war is going on there must be terrible. “War is Hell.”
I suppose too there were ones left behind, still, and wondering how fate was treating them. Another poem? Also life in an ‘exile’ of sorts, there were perils there as well.
..
So beautiful, wistful. We can get lost in sorrow. I am that way at times.
Longing for something/someone is the worst form of sorrow…
Nice!
yes, these words do leave one with a sense of longing…sometimes i feel as if i’m homesick for something from another life, yet i can’t recall it.
to liken a persons presence to “honeysuckle spring” is beautiful. Nicely done – I think you clicked with his type of writing quite well.