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Nine Billion

by Poopsie


It starts a nameless drop on the wind. Slowly, gently spreading through the sky. Winding in and out of woods, stretching over rolling hills.

It touches softly, the wind tailing behind. In its grasp is a blue eye. A gray eye. Five fingers. Five lifetimes. Nine billion hands clasped warmly together, so we may never know loneliness.

Through graveyards, iron barbs, brick chimneys, nestled in hearths, and setting suns and stars scattered with abandon so we may never know darkness.

It reaches the cities now. Wanders through parks and glass spires. Here it pauses, waiting for a passerby to begin its race, the man on the park bench who’s been there for three years. Or the woman fifty stories up who would gladly trade places if it meant she could take one more step forward. In each of them, something is rekindled. She takes a step, and he catches her. Together they step forwards, lightness in their walk, so we may never know loss.

And those who have seen such majesty nod knowingly. So it begins again. Weaving in and out of glass towers. Dancing with trees, rustling shutters, to another time. Sewing stars together, paving each step forwards, tripping over itself with ecstasy so our eyes forever twinkle.

And soon it is time enough. Somewhere its pace slows , lost in the fabric of dawn or soft waves lapping on shores. Its eyes close for one second, and then one minute, and then eternity. Suddenly stars flee from the night. Darkness shines, and the sun stays through dusk and the moon reigns at dawn. These warm hands bring tears. Those eyes, gray and blue, close.

Yet we still feel warmth by our side. And we know no nights, and loss is a phantom; one we cannot follow. And our eyes still twinkle, shrouded by starlight lids.

For we know nothing but we have happened before, nothing but the eternity standing before us and what we know is caged within it. There is no release now. Not yet. Only a sigh amongst those iron barbs, smoke black hearths:

“I am prosper. Righteous, unrepentant prosper. For all alive and all that have yet to. If there was ever a voice on the wind. Or a rhythm in the leaves, it was mine. It beckons, a sound to the lips, a voice for all.”

“Before me lies the world. I see there hurt. On the tips of sharp tongues, and the tears and the blood and the fear that come with it. I see here flights of fright, words with uncertainty clashes and creeds and coffins. I see tears here and smiles there. For yes there is rain. A dark day when we will know fear and we will know the night as it is before us. And the sky will flee behind its cloudy curtain and the black barbs will loom over the sky and the cold hearth will weep, for surely there will be no dawn, for the naked eye cannot see an end on the horizon. And perhaps they are correct. Yet still I see a brilliant light heralding the new day and the blue sky smiling down on us and the smell of sweet grass around those black barbs. I hear all too well the beating of nine billion hearts and I know they hold me within them. I see there the children of that darkest night. They are happy, and years later their children. They too, are happy. I see they carry a piece of me, and they see the black barbs and they run and they hide and they fear and they cannot perceive of an end to this suffering life and so they sleep. And when the next sun rises, still they remain. For they are happy, for they are in the light. And no night can take the stars from their eyes. I know this, and I am happy. For I see a glorious people who run from the shadow, and fear their end, and fight and strive and thrive and crumple. And I smile, for I see myself in all of them. 


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48 Reviews


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Sun Apr 23, 2017 3:29 am
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StupidSoup says...



Good




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Fri Apr 21, 2017 10:23 am
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Lumi wrote a review...



Ayyyy Pigeon!

You have some strong individual lines in this piece, but you also have some major flow issues; like--in the manner that I ran out of breath trying to read some lines in the final segment issues. This is where mechanics like line breaks and general white space come in handy; or sentence variation or sentence structure. It all amounts to a better and richer flow that makes your piece stronger and smoother and NOT a block of text.

That said, you have some gorgeous imagery here, but it needs to be divided. It's easy to lose track of your train of thought among the madness.

And really? That's all I have. Break this slab up and I think you have a solid piece for dramatic/cultural. It certainly is dramatic and it has some nice images for cultural ideas. Keep up the good work.

Ty




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Sun Feb 26, 2017 1:25 pm
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herbgirl wrote a review...



Hello! herbgirl here for a review!
You utilize your language in a very beautiful way in this poem. Your imagery is fantastic, it makes it very easy for your reader to get this vision of a very hopeful world. Overall, i got this beautiful picture of hope, and the message that even when things go wrong there is something looking out for us, and things will get better. It was very interesting and very sweet, i thought. However, i do have some suggestions that i feel could benefit this piece, and help your audience better understand your message.
First of all, i'm not quite sure this piece counts as poetry. This is just my personal opinion, but given the longer lines and more paragraph based structure, i would categorize this as prose, or "other". i can understand why you wouldn't want to do that, as it makes it harder for readers to find your work, but that's the category i felt this piece could fit in.
My next suggestion to you is also pretty small. i'm not sure if you were referring to nine billion as some other number, but there are actually closer to seven billion people on earth than nine billion. If you were trying to express the number of people on earth, you should probably change that. If not, it's fine.
Now, my other suggestions had more to do with word and stylistic choices.

“I am prosper. Righteous, unrepentant prosper. For all alive and all that have yet to. If there was ever a voice on the wind. Or a rhythm in the leaves, it was mine. It beckons, a sound to the lips, a voice for all.”

i am a little confused about the "I am prosper" part. "Prosper" is a verb, meaning to succeed or flourish, and therefore you cannot be "flourish". It just doesn't make sense. i'm not quite sure what you were going for there, but you could change the word to the noun form of the word, "prosperity". The next sentence i would change to "for all living and all that have yet to" because if i summarized it as is it would be "For alive and all that have yet to alive" or something similar. It just doesn't make a lot of sense. i suggest combining the next two sentence with a comma where the current period is, because it makes the flow better.
Now, the last paragraph. First of all, this is really what moved me to think that this piece was more prose than poetry, as it is such a big chunk of writing. This also makes it rather unattractive to your audience, and might deter them. i suggest, if possible, breaking it up into smaller paragraphs at the switches between ideas, as it will make the information more digestible for your audience. My other big suggestion for this paragraph is to read through it again, and carefully analyze your use of commas. i feel as if you could use them to combine many sentences to make this paragraph flow more easily from statement to statement. If you have any questions on how to do this, please let me know, i would be happy to help! i had one final suggestion for this paragraph, and that is to end with a quotation mark, simply because you started with one and need to close it off.
Anyways, sorry if any of that was harsh or confusing! If you have any questions, please contact me, i would love to assist you further. As i said before, you have some lovely imagery in this piece, but work on some of your stylistic choices to better communicate your theme. Thanks for the read!
herbgirl




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Sun Feb 26, 2017 3:09 am
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skylnn00writes wrote a review...



"It starts a nameless drop in the wind." I think you should change this to say "it starts with a nameless drop in the wind."

"Slowly and gently"

"Somewhere its pace slows , " watch the spacing with the punctuation as well

I absolutely loved the last ending. The connections with life in this are just... deep. I can't find any other word besides deep because it was just amazing. Props to you for being able to write something like this. This is real poetry, that is amazing.

There are a few choppy sentences that kind of break apart the whole thing so I will say watch for grammar but other than that I am not kidding you when I say that it is absolutely amazing.

Keep writing poetry because you really do know how to make deeper connections and metaphors and that is an amazing skill.

Hope this review helps you edit :smt001





Love is not an emotion. Love is a promise.
— 12th Doctor