For Walt, with Reverent Indifference
Poems, vaguely wafted in night air, uncaught, unwritten,
Which, let us go forth in the bold day, and write.
For him I built eloquent houses out of leaves of grass;
I breathed his ears full of poemets and indulged him with dribs of melodies,
Scorched the grass around our heads into ambiguous brown halos –
Young man: I think this face of yours the face of my dead Christ.
I immortalized his death, scattered ashes to the wind and dissolved them
In luminous afternoons; or perhaps I had only dreamed he was dead.
For him I waged war on death with a welter of discordant sounds,
Staked tenors against sopranos; silv'ry flutes rivaled ardent organs – tumultuous
And uncontained harmonies that bled into a thousand midnights and dreams.
For him, I invented eternity.
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A lovely memento to Whitman.
I don't personally like the use of another poet's line in a new poem -- I'd prefer you to spin your own lines rather than take a few, even though it serves its purpose -- but your own lines were wonderful enough to make me not care.
I love the way it mirrors the style so well. Full credit, Skye, I think you've done brilliantly here.
I'd love it ever more if it ws all your own though.
PERFECTO.
I love this. Could I perhaps put this in my signature??? Haha. It's just so beautiful!
beautiful. I think it's wonderful. Perfect.
But, for the sake of giving a good, worth while comment, I'll tell you what my creative writing teacher told me. Simplicity is genius. how can the every-day person enjoy and take something for your poem if they cannot understand it? simplify some of those words, and you have yourself a terrific poem.