My friend L. L. Barkat FINALLY discovered the beauty of Texas this past week at Laity Lodge. She also challenged Jim Martin and me to post something we had written while we were there. [UPDATE: my friend, Tod Bolsinger joined the game too, and here's a link to his post.]
L. L. posted about the stairs. For me, Laity is more about ascending cliffs than climbing stairs. So I worked on this old poem I wrote about circle bluff–and my mixed emotions about the way we rush out to nature to get a quick fix, then rush back to our busy lives.
The poem isn’t really finished. It’s the end of a sonnet, but I haven’t written the last 6 lines yet. Maybe I never will. But I did record a reading of it because I believe poetry is essentially oral. So here’s the front-half octave of a sonnet with no title.
(Don’t complain. It’s free poetry. Beggars can’t be choosers. You want the real thing? Go subscribe to 32 Poems.)
A limestone cliff shows the end of the climb
though most never notice the gradual incline
that leads us here. Each step feels more or less
normal, doesn’t wind us or try us. We pass
boulders without stopping and mossy logs,
perfect resting spots. When our tired legs caught
on tree roots or loose rocks, we blamed terrain.
On top, we snap shots, check watches, descend again.
{ 5 comments }
Me gusta la poema.
Whoa, JP. That’s high praise coming from you! I think you just made my week.
Oops. Earlier versions of this post referred to the poem as a sestet which is six lines. Apparently, Math Boy (me) can’t count to 8. Duhr!
Also, isn’t that branded gabcast player cool? I’m playing around with gabcast as an option for the Laity Lodge podcast. You can get much simpler than gabcast in my opinion. (And I’ve tried them all!)
It’s quiet and solid, and here and there it might get tweaked to up the sonic qualities and diction, but I like it. Technically it wouldn’t be a sonnet what with the couplets and all, but I’ve seen fourteeners in couplets that are close enough to sonnet-ude.
I think I missed the depth of this poem on the first reading. And the second reading. Then I listened to your reading several times.
Then something began to happen. A deeper philosophy started to emerge at the top, the way you emerged at the top of the cliff by gradual incline that hadn’t really gained your attention.
Now, I still wasn’t sure about the ending, because it didn’t pursue this aspect of the poem…the sense that some of the places life takes us happen almost unawares. And before we know it, we’ve passed by equally interesting alternatives to arrive at a vista, broad and enchanting. A place we never want to leave.
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