Coagulated rain
On barren skin,
Vindictive in its glare;
Lips tethered to a silent scream —
A wordsmith’s drought
Seeks refuge in dispair.
Accursed the hand
That withers in the lie
Of dreams unwrit,
And wields the anodine
To shield unfound
Its self-conceit.
*
vic briggs 
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Beautiful and powerful, Vic. And that photo – it perfectly complements your words.
BTW had to look up “anodine” (I’m not as clever as I think I am!)
🙂
Thank you, Lee-Anne. Ah yes… anodine, it’s an old favourite of mine. You can blame my long-standing affair with French for that one 🙂
Reblogged this on Walkingtomydreams13.
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The entire poem is stunning, Vic, very powerful – but I have to say that my favorite part is that you were able to use the word ‘coagulated’ in such a seamless way – that’s not an easy word to manipulate!
Thank you, A.C. There is a certain mystery attached to how certain expressions come to us. The first verse thundered through my brain just as I was readying for sleep and then image after image raced through my mind until I had to abandon all hope of rest and commit it to paper before it escaped me.
Brilliant, Vic. It sounds as if the muse was upon you and no mistake! Very often the admission of such drought frees up the great flowing waters once more. xxx
Thank you for your support and kind words of encouragement, Ali and I do hope that will be the case and the admission will make space for a freer hand. I am trying to catch up on some reading and commentating while the drought persists. I hope it will not be long before I can feel its power recede.
What an opening!
Thank you, Richard. I was saying in reply to another commentator how mysterious our writing can be even to ourselves. An expression that had never occurred to us in a lifetime, suddenly appears to have been part of our mental process all along.
Very true, although I’m not sure I have a mental process, more of a delirium.
A delirium… yes I know exactly what you mean. My mind races at present between the desert and a universe too full of ideas for any to become fully visible. May need to seek a way out of the chaos… or is it the void? At times it is difficult to keep track.
For me it was joy. If you can enjoy what you’re writing and look forward to it as much as a reader would then you’re onto a good thing.
I will take a leaf from your joyfulness then 🙂
Not sure that’s a good idea LOL
Any dangers I ought to keep a look out for then? 😉
Well, the problem there Vic, is I have a very bad memory and have already forgotten what we was on about LOL
(Keeps things fresh)
That it certainly does. No worries. Will revert to the conversation some other time 🙂
Build me up to it slowly, that way I don’t look fool (don’t say nuthin’ LOL)
🙂 Will do. Promise.
🙂
Love this
Thank you. I was considering in part the strangeness about rain in drought, which in many ways this poem is to me.
Looks like a Jerry Uellsman photo.
Perhaps Katie Tegtmeyer is a fan? It would not surprise me to find out that she was inspired by his photography. I particularly like his woman/river (although I am not certain of its title).
HATFM
((Awhoooo))
Thank you, Marcus. There seems to be a theme running to my poetry at present.
You are a wonderful writer, This was beautiful.
Very kind. Thank you. At times we find beauty in the most unusual of places – whether outer or inner.
Even your comments are lovely.
It can’t be helped I suppose 🙂 Thank you.
Powerful imagery in every line here, Vic, as each makes one shudder at the thought of an inability to communicate. Great complimentary pic. too.
Thank you, Chris. I felt rather like a painter dipping my brush into words as I wrote this.
Potent. (For some reason, your posts are not showing up in my reader …).
Thank you, Beth. Regarding the reader, I am not sure why that may be the case. Perhaps try unfollowing and re-following – it may reboot the system?
Thank God I am not a wordsmith that looks for just the perfect word. And if I run out, which hasn’t happened I just look at my friends for inspiration. Or the larger world around!
Hence todays journey back to the Central Coast, as I am now a #Wine blogger! LoL.
Oh, my editing process is spellcheck, I wrote extemporanously.
I was certain that you will find something new and exciting to get your pallet accustomed to. Incidentally, I have written a poetic dedication on the subject of trolls. In view of what we have encountered of late it seemed both timely and necessary.
Thank you, Kavalkade.
Sadly I have been sleeping on a pallet as well.
I kid! But my journey into #Wine country is exciting!
Even though I don’t drink wine.
Perhaps I ought to seek some inspiration at the bottom of a glass. It worked for so many before me 😉
Haha.
I have things for you to write about if you seek inspiration again! haha.
You didn’t write about the last things I suggest however. LoL.
I need to update webisodes again. And I found an awesome online app.
I can embed our links into the photos! So awesome!
Drive traffic to us that much easier! I have wanted that ability since I started doing them.
That is great news. Remind me: what was it that you asked me to write about? Sorry, we’ve been discussing so many things I must have lost track.
http://andykaufmanskavalkadekrew.wordpress.com/2014/03/22/top-10-50s-music-department-of-music-stuff/
I can’t remember! It’s in your comments somewhere. haha.
Will search and see whether I can find the relevant thread.
It ain’t no thing.
LoL.
Just if you are droughty you can join me in watching over Mississippi!
I do that with GeneO and his Sister in my Mississippi Mud! category of The KaDoh! Institute.
🙂
I have Kavalkaded to top 10 lists for fun.
I wish I had your savviness when it comes to social media. I’m afraid it is a pen and paper for me: I am startled even by my present ability to navigate technology.
LoL. read my Letters to Conrad Series!
Welcome to the Kavalkade! New parody maybe.
Im renaming my Six Degrees of Sizzling Musical Bacon to Kavalkade of Music now.
Just going to be a little abstract, well kind of, because I love how your poem at the top came out above, did the poem lie, is, does a drought exist. Pop it in a bottle, a glass bottle, turn a cork in, wedge it tight upon the opening, and send, set to sea. (Normally I’d refrain from littering, but glass reminds me of obsidian ( the glass of the wild places), sand (the seas, oceans, rivers, and lakes, we think we can tame), limestone (caves that transit deep beneath the ground in conversation, and ash (because it once held living stories now free across lands, in the winds, and upon waters). Perhaps it’s best just to wave instead, a poem in semaphore, from shore to ____…
Still just rambling in thought from your poem, for it’s dark here, and rain sings upon the old roof these last three days, nights still tracking time.
Just (I don’t know, just like the word just at the moment) place the pen down, lay it flat upon the paper, allow the ink to rest horizontal, to sleep awhile. Close those eyes, the ones, yes those ones, the ones to see so much, now take a stand, turn about face, to listen, listen close, I mean real close. now make a quarter turn, to do the same again, and keep repeating until arriving to where one started. Now, this time, keep your eyes still closed, but also, cup ones hands over your ears, breathe in slow, savour the scents to your near world, and make quarter turns again to repeat each time once more. Do you feel disorientated; No.. Now open your eyes, look around. How many stories do you see, did you experience?
Me, right now, I’m standing on the focsle deck to the ship with the fireglow red sails, wondering about the figure waving from the shoreline, wondering what’s their story, is it a message they’re sending, communicating, or is it a poem as the sea, the ship, fills all my senses in the mist lit avenue to the bay. Perhaps, brave wayfarers write.
Hope that’s not too much thinking by me, just avoiding writing at the moment while it rains…
I am glad that you allowed your thoughts to linger over this deserted land and bring some much-needed rain. Thank you, Sean. I will return to your comment soon and listen in again. The drought continues, but I see clouds gathering in the distance. It is a promise of a thunderstorm yet to come. Perhaps I will await its arrival, or perhaps… I may tie my shoelaces and voyage towards it instead.
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