Shored between tomorrow and the past


Granitic wavelets rolling, kneading sand
with pewter clouds adrift like ships.
Breathing bearded daisies falling into
softness, moistened by my failing songs.

A walk so gentle, daring is this wind
in gilded sheen, its being of my past
a longing for heroic dreams, a blight,
with weight of bleating cottoncandy-lips.

Your pinkness is of cumulus and sheep adrift.
Heaven still at rest, balanced on a grassblade
and canyons carved across my peaty eyes.

I’m being one with wisps of smoke – your voice
is dust, a rosary of brine and mist,
my shore between tomorrow and the past.

Tide near the Shore of the Crimea by Fyodor Vasilyev

Tide near the Shore of the Crimea by Fyodor Vasilyev

Today I am back writing to dVerse Open Link hosted by Grace.
A little experiment on writing a freeverse sonnet, some of the words I have picked up from Wales Visitation by Allen Ginsberg.

33 responses to “Shored between tomorrow and the past

  1. Perhaps I’m #1; cool. So good to have your strong poetic voice back into the hallowed pub halls. Excellent poem–free verse sonnet, daring in its way. The poem is very strong, contemporary for sure, but with echoes & trappings of something classic & historical–between Whitman & Dylan Thomas. I love the lines /Breathing bearded daisies falling into/
    softness, moistened by my failing songs/ & /your pinkness is of cumulus & sheep adrift/. Welcome back.

  2. I like the free-verse sonnet specially the ending lines ~ The past is certainly gone, but the taste of it, brine, mist, lingers like dust on cotton candy lips ~

    Welcome back Bjorn ~ Good to read you again ~

  3. Some striking images in your freeverse sonnet! One I really like is “weight of bleating cottoncandy-lips.” Welcome back, Bjorn!

  4. I’ve never seen this poetic form before. You are a true artist with standard sonnets but new form is beyond words. The images are startling. The closing lines are flawless. It was easy to get lost in them.

  5. Nice contrast between the two voices there – the pinkness and sweetness with the craggy granite… Is it the past or tomorrow which has a gilded sheen and seen through rosy lense?

  6. Absolutely love the way these words fit together,
    “your voice
    is dust, a rosary of brine and mist,”
    Also “pewter clouds” is such a interesting visual. It’s like the color is exactly right but the clouds are heavy and dense.
    Of all you’ve written, this is one of my favorite.
    Peace

  7. Love to see and read you again, Bjorn. Lots of verbs in this one, the words writhe and throb as I read it. I think that your last stanza paints a very clear image to me … the voice being the link between ast and future.

  8. my shore between tomorrow and the past… very cool.. loving all the images.. and welcome back! hope you had a wonderful holiday

  9. The free sonnet sounds like a ‘form’ I could attempt. There are some very vivid images in your poem – like the others I particularly like the closing lines.

  10. “my shore between tomorrow and the past.” Oh that was so brilliant Bjorn, welcome back. Hope you had a good holiday.

  11. This is wonderful, colorful and a real feast for the senses. Love your word choices and the imagery evoked by them.

    I took a workshop with Ginsberg when I was young, he was quite the character. I could feel his influence here.

  12. Greetings Bjorn, a delicious and intensely resonant write – you are on great from here… Especially liked: “pewter clouds…” and “Your pinkness is of cumulus” Delightful….

  13. Yes.. a seasHore of Uni-Verse in BliSs.. in torrid waves..
    whEre soUl of crystalized sAnd.. becomes diamondized
    spiRit of human heArt… a place in skeYes of all before..
    a place WE are as US.. free polishing souls aLiVE now.

    🙂 Welcome Back Bjorn 🙂

  14. This was flawless, the flow was like the waves. Especially loved:
    “A walk so gentle, daring is this wind
    in gilded sheen, its being of my past
    a longing for heroic dreams, a blight,
    with weight of bleating cottoncandy-lips.” Thanks for the read!

  15. Your pinkness is of cumulus and sheep adrift.
    Heaven still at rest, balanced on a grassblade

    Wouldn’t it be nice to be seeing nature outside peaceful and at rest! Though precariously balanced on a narrow base is still ok! Great sonnet with beautiful poetic words Bjorn!

    Hank

  16. The way you mix words is pure artistry. As I read this, it is like watching someone paint the most beautiful picture. I love “pewter clouds” and “canyons carved against my peaty eyes”. Welcome back, Bjorn. 🙂

  17. I love this “shored between tomorrow and the past” perspective – which, of course, is where we all must reside (physically, anyway) – or die. “Heaven still at rest, balanced on a grassblade
    and canyons carved across my peaty eyes” says it all.

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