- Non-Erotic Poetry
- The Rock
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I am the rock
Bare and barren
Stripped of all feature
Open to the elements rage
Clambered over daily
Hewn to make others statues
Slowly worn away by endless friction
Yet still I remain unmoved and eternal.
Once I flowed
Spread Myself endlessly
Grew in fiery magnificence
Destroyer of cities and universally feared
Now I am silent
My anger swallowed deep
Running in rivers hidden and controlled
Burning away endlessly the core of My being.
One more eruption
A daily whispered prayer
To end in glorious destruction
Extinguished in a cacophony of sound
Cleansing in passing
Leaving nil but telltale scar
To start afresh the cyclic journey
That makes legends of giants seem real.
- COMMENTS
Tsothaalmost 10 years agoWhat is missing, here, is perhaps something to lead to your intended meaning. But then, poems can be mysterious, too. It's all good, imho. Now, what I see here is a person, a rock, "clambered over daily", "worn away by friction", whose substance is hewn away to make "statues" (or conform to roles) for other people. Once this person was fiery, this person flowed and changed. Anger was swallowed deep and now runs in hidden rivers. This person now wishes for one last "eruption".
Interesting poem. Thank you for sharing
greenmountaineeralmost 10 years agoI agree with Pelegrino: a lot room to tease the imagination. At first, I began thinking of Vesuvius and even Mt. St. Helens, but then I came to the last line. I was a bit confused, but the line made me think more expansively: the Pacific Ring of Fire, prehistoric tribes deifying the power of nature. In fact, personifying the mountain in the grammatical first person was very effective and re-enforced the mythic perspective of volcanic mountains.
Maybe my journey was different than you intended, but one of the first things I look for in a poem is the the poet give me enough of a narrative for my imagination to do something meaningful with it. This did.
pelegrinoalmost 10 years agoWithout understanding its exact meaning, it still gives me a lot of room for forming my own thoughts and images through the substance of the words you choose to use.
It gave me the impression of a self-contained, self-recycling universe, a super nova just before its final explosion, but still it leaves to my heart hope.
The flow and the tension is developed very skilfully from stillness to full motion through the stanzas, climaxing, I think, in line 4 of stanza 3 and decreasing in the last four lines till it fades into its "cyclic journey" where "legends seem real"
5ed and thanks for sharing.
