This blog begins with basic concepts, and branches out from there. Some of the posts are a continuation of an earlier post, or may somewhat modify the content of another posting through the introduction of other concepts for which the necessary groundwork is now laid. Consequently, you will comprehend best by starting with the oldest posts; for the convenience of those who have been with me from the beginning, the newest posts are listed first. Feel free, of course, to read in any manner you choose, forward, backward, or sideways!

Thursday, December 20, 2007

POETRY

O. K., after Ochlophobe's endorsement I'm almost afraid to write; keep your expectations low, and you won't be disappointed.

By way of lightening the tone a bit, I'm going to be publishing a small amount of poetry here. You retain all rights, simultaneous submissions O. K.. I don't care if it's been published before or not, if it's anything you would like me and my readers to see, send it in. Also, if you have a favorite poem you would like to share with everyone, send it; just be sure you include the name of the author, and make sure I am aware that it is not yourself. I'll probably only be doing 3-4 poems a month, and maybe a couple of my own. Send submissions to: ddcomfort@gmail.com. If you send them to the comments page, I will delete them. Decisions of the editor are final.
To start things out, here's one of my own:
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Pertinacity

Living branch is grafted to dead tree;
dead tree wilts, the branch salutes the Spring,
the springing lily's bugle calls: Rejoice!
The weeping willow bows to it's decay.

Fruits and flowers fill the leafy branch
as branching beauties sprout on either side;
breeze blows, the tree begins to sway,
the live branch scatters petals to the wind.

Dead tree is lonely in infirmity,
bark sloughs off, the worm bores through the bole.
Blue moon looks down to where the tree still stands,
decrepit, leprous, by an evil fen;

in the drear light, an object lies upon
dark grass, dank with fever and disease,
flowers withered, fruits yet unmatured,
dead branch lies broken, rotted at the base.
-Don Comfort

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

i'm usually not that good at undestanding what is trying to be conveyed through poems (apart from lymericks)...would be grateful if someone could post their thoughts on this one so that i can check whether i 'got it'.

Maxim said...

O.K., If anyone knows how to make this confonded thing do proper paragraphs, leave a note and enlighten me.

Maxim said...

Anon, as far as the meaning goes, it's basically a comment on the way it is said that everything must be made pertinent to the modern world, especially as regards the Church, and a caution as to the perils of uniting living things to dead ones.