I was dreaming the night he died

I was dreaming the night he died
of gold-lit fields, a deep blue river
cast beneath a setting sun that never touched
the ground, even though the earth reached high
with gentle fingers to hold the sun. I dreamed
of souls born through love that never died, that
ever played in fields of gold and in the shade
of bronze-leafed trees, that waited for their loves to come and
join their play. I dreamed a valley
without death, without pain, with illness and
anguish a forgotten memory, faded
by the distance of time and
height, and I dreamed
I sat atop that height with him beside me.

He spoke to me then,
as the mists behind us drew cold and close, whispering
of trials to come. He spoke to me and said,
"I have to go now."
then turned to tread the path which led down
into the valley, a path I
could not yet tread. And I watched him go as he never looked back, and I
watched him reach the valley below where he leapt
to join the others in their eternal game, and I
watched him play until he crossed the river and
left my sight
beneath the leaves of the bronzen trees.

I turned away to face the quiet mists which whispered
across my skin, clinging and hushing the
things to come as I made my way
home. And when I awoke
the morning next
to a quiet house and new-dawned sun,
I knew that he was dead.

Hello there! Here to review, I am.

I enjoy the beginning, the whole first sentence stretching out into those lines. It fits; it feels right. What I might say is that you could (possibly?) clarify that the second line goes on to the dreaming, but it may just be me that stumbled over that, and that just because I'm not quite experienced as an analytical reader. Also, you use a repetition of "sun" that sounds a little off to my ears. Perhaps it's connecting the idea of the sun and the earth out of reach, and perhaps it will fit the more I read it, but on first read it looks and sounds somewhat awkward. Out of place, you understand. Maybe it's just because of the line of separation between the repetition that makes it sound odd; we get enough time for breathing room from the first before you give us the second, but it's close enough that it's still repetition. If there was another way to phrase it, I would think, to relieve your reader of some presence of mind...

In the second sentence of your poem, is it the souls that never die or the love that never dies? You have to ask which image you want your readers to come away with; perhaps a parenthetical (commas, dashes, anything really) for the "born of love" phrase to make it clear if it's the soul or the love that's immortal. I'm also not sure about the repetition of "play", but it sounds more in-touch than your repetition of "sun" earlier.

I'm not sure about the ending sentence for the first stanza. I feel like it could be said better, rather than switching "without" to "with" and making the reader wait to find out what was "with" the illness and anguish. I think my line of thought went more along the lines of:

I dreamed a valley
without death, without pain, without illness or
anguish - all of them forgotten memories, faded
by the distance of time and
height - and I dreamed
I sat atop that height with him beside me.

That's just how my train of thought goes, of course; this is your poem and you might have some other idea you're trying to get across with having the sentence as it is now. I'm just trying to look at the sides of the coin I can see, and if there are more, they're invisible to me as of now.

In the second stanza. I love "as the mists behind us drew cold and close" - the words like where they are, and the reader loves them for it. What I might say is that if the mists are the ones whispering, perhaps you could say "as the mists behind us drew cold and close and whispered" instead of "whispering", since the parenthetical at the end almost makes it allot the whispering of trials to "him". Other than that, I really like the rest of the stanza, except maybe "bronzen trees". The wording makes it seem a little silly; perhaps "brassy trees" or something like that. Bronzen brings to mind sillier words than you might wish to evoke from the reader.

At the end. The mists are whispering again; I especially like, though, how you used whispered as a verb for movement instead of straight-out sound. It gives it a different feeling than the repeated whisper in the last stanza. Almost like it's a different word, but not quite. I like how you ended with the speaker's knowledge, due to the way he left in the dream the night before. I like how you ended in general. It's nice, it's smooth, it wraps the poem up in a bundle straight for delivery at someone's heart.

This poem is great. I like it. I nearly love it, even. It speaks to the human feeling of loss, and it's eloquent.

Kyllorac, you were always capable of slaying me with your diction, even when you first joined this site many a year back. There is no difference there whether that be prose or poetry. You have such a wonderful way with words.

Now, as the poem goes, I do have a few little loose ends to pick on, but know that you're a fantastic writer first and foremost.

The big problem with this piece, I found, was that you play the prose field. You use very heavy lines such as the first line in which was brutally strong to a point of a good nose crinkle. Lines that are in your face and are meant to inspire emotion within their blatancy. The problem being, when one is blatant, they run the risk of becoming either preachy, pretentious, or prosey. And all of these things can easily kill a good poem. Or a poem, for that matter.

Luckily enough, I didn't find that this piece was preachy or overly pretentious. It was touching and it was personal, though much to prose-like in my opinion. Which brings me to my next point.

Fear the cliche.

I dreamed a valley
without death, without pain, with illness and
anguish a forgotten memory, faded
by the distance of time and
height, and I dreamed
I sat atop that height with him beside me.

This is touching, but it is also very, very plain. Boringly plain. The problem with it really lies in the fact that its not really all that original. Your wording was your own, of course, but it is a sentiment often expressed in the manner that you expressed it. And because of that, it comes across as being almost juvenile, even if just a bit. It drags the poem down and causes it to lose that ultimate effect, especially after such hard hitting lines like the opening one.

You also tend to use an unappealing repetition. For instance, you use the word 'gold' twice in one stanza to explain two completely different things. It drags down the flow considerably and makes it feel as if you are merely repeating the same points again, whether or not the thought is a little differentiated. Like watching the same shade of grey. The poem in itself progresses, but with little things like that, its hard to think that it moved at all.

Next, I want to touch up on the dream-sequence that is this poem. Because its a poem about dreaming and knowing (as the ending gives off quite the interesting feel), I couldn't shake the thought that you didn't really give it your 'all'. As in, for a dream-sequence, your imagery was rather bland. Mostly visual things explaining the setting and the weather. Things that could thicken prose considerably, but does not quite appeal to the senses in the way one should hope in poetry. And this could be grand if you let it be a bit more natural. A little less on the emphasis that comes with the first line and the last line. Moreover, I would like to see you work with the senses a bit more. With taste, hearing, touching. Sensations that will make the dream-like quality of this more believable and more visceral.

There were many fantastic points to this poem, though. The idea behind it is something I find interesting, even if not all that subtle nor leaving much room for the mind to flutter. You keep it very contained in that manner, and you don't really jump out of that cool, easy-going comfort zone that comes with being predominantly a prose writer.

I feel as if you are out of your element. Of course, you have fantastic diction and a way with words which both with aid you greatly if you wish to keep going with poetry. I would like to see you writing more of this, in all honesty. I feel you have the aptitude for it.

~Walker

Honestly I felt the piece was overstuffed.

You take an idea as cliched as seeing someone the night they died in dream and fill it with fluffly, lengthened imagery.
Don't get me wrong, you are a STRONG writer, and I've read through your other works as well and enjoyed them, but here I felt that cutting down on the padding, the streams of mist, the pools, etc, and focus in on the emotion, the simplicity that comes with ones final moments, and you'd have a much stronger piece.

Overall, you maintain consistent form, use excellent imagery, and capture reader interest. I felt it just needs a little less padding and a little more depth to really get to the meat of the emotion.

So keep it up, I'll be looking for more.

Hey,

I started reading feeling I knew the pace and then trailed off concentrating more on all of the descriptions. The ideas are awesome and the way you write is of a very high standard! I can't help feeling though, that you could have cut this down somewhat.

"I have to go now."
then turned to tread the path which led down
into the valley, a path I
could not yet tread.

Here for instance, the repetition of the same word breaks the rolling flow of the narrative. I personally would have changed the line breaks as well, however, I do not and have never attempted poetry and therefore probably have no idea what I'm talking about. The style and power of your piece has intrigued me to read more of your work! Look out for more reviews!

- LadyLucifer

Spoiler

i love your peom i thought that it was so detailed and so sad at the same time. it filled me with mixed emotions and that can be hard to do at times. it was amazing

it was a beautiful poem it really was.

I love this. Not much for me to review, I just wanted to show my like for this piece. Something similar actually happened. The evening my grandfather died, I went to bed early because for some strange reason I felt so sick. I had a dream, woke up at 4pm, and I burst into tears because I just knew he was dead - and he was.

i liked your poem. it kept me intertained. i thought towards the end that it got a little sad because he just turned and walked away? i think that is is amazing that you came up with the idea to make this poem about a dream. that is really kool. i do wish that there was a little more to the end because of the type of ending that there was. it made me want to read more.
keep on writing your getting good.