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Author Name: FreeSilver Sun 12 Comments
Date Added: November 26, 2006 11:11:56 Average Score: (Needs 2)
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Ancestral Simplicities

Wasted, to the shadows of evening.
Harvesting this desolation;
Encouraging the dull ache of twilight;
Nurturing the impossibilities inherent in dreams -
For what we know is but a reaction to what we see.
Annotations in the margin of history;
Corrections and changes graffiti this cold
Existence devoid of inspiration.
Diverted towards melancholy during these waking hours,
We witness intermittent moments of achievement -
Incidental in their nature and
Too few to be of any worth -
Hatch, then quietly disappear; hidden
In between the lines where nobody reads.
Going before the fall, the more
Noble among us persist in their attempts,
Out of misplaced confidence, or mere ego, to
Resurrect the beauty of our
Ancestral simplicities.
Nought be the outcome of these fantasies,
Though, time no better spent be bought.
Graceless in their movements
Invitations of renewal are answered.
Taken out of context by
Serial intruders, they are consequently
Incarcerated within a jail of ignorance.
Forgotten by everybody but memory,
Each of these servants to denial
Express but the doubt of fantasy.
Learning to overcome this, we try
To situate ourselves behind the bars,
Housed within the confinement, in attempts to
Explain, if only to ourselves,
Not what we believe, but merely ask.
Even if it is, beyond our own doubts,
Exaggerated to the limit of comprehension,
Designs upon this truth
Trap us into this state
Of being convinced, upon the slightest provocation,
To satisfy our human need for solution.
All of the words from the great
Kings of ages past,
Except those we dislike, are followed to the letter;
Treated as gospel;
Handed down through time to be
Exemplified in the actions of self-styled
Philanthropic leaders.
In view of this treachery,
Several souls
Search vainly for the light.

Author's Notes:
I should like to thank a particularly sensual sorceress for her inspiring line.
See if you can guess which one.
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Comment By: FreeCynthia Jones on January 24, 2007 08:45:23 AM Report
Congrats on your muchly deserved award. *S* Whispering Winds
Comment By: FreeLeonard Wilson on January 23, 2007 07:59:28 PM Report
PS...I know I already commented on this, but since it won the coveted bronze hubcap...:O)
Comment By: FreeLeonard Wilson on January 23, 2007 07:57:47 PM Report
Very smart write, James..SEarching for the light is what makes us human..I hope it has not ALL been in vain...len
Comment By: PremiumDavid Turner on January 23, 2007 06:39:07 PM Report

Congratulations on the award James.


Warm Wishes



Comment By: FreeAdri on January 22, 2007 04:14:33 AM Report

Like I said, you talent is going to be legendary one day!  Congrats my dear!!  You are shining like a silver sun...  ;o) 
Adri x

Comment By: FreeLady Dragonwyck on January 21, 2007 07:45:08 PM Report
James:  congratulations on your Feature Poem Award -- very deserved.


Lady Dragonwyck

Comment By: FreeLeonard Wilson on December 13, 2006 08:05:25 PM Report
Gee..I feel like I should leave a few links to my writes as a comment...:O) Was something smells at P.U.S.S.I her line?????..Oops...Wrong write..Sounds like you have a case of the winter-time blues, James.. Eloquent penning, mate...len
Comment By: PremiumDavid Turner on December 7, 2006 06:20:14 AM Report
Like you James, I find it difficult, when faced with the duality of the Nature of Man  to decide which side to come down upon. Bronowski can trace the Ascent of Man over millenia like a ladder to the stars built out of small steps placed one upon another, but it seems that all it takes is for one man with a talent for glad handing, a limited intelligence, little real understanding but with  barrels of oil money behind him and the whole fragile ediface is in danger of burning to the ground destroying a millenia of progress. As you recognise you are not a lone voice crying in the Wilderness, some of those that I hear are:-

W.H. Auden SEPTEMBER 1, 1939
Defenseless under the night
Our world in stupor lies;
Yet, dotted everywhere,
Ironic points of light
Flash out wherever the Just
Exchange their messages:
May I, composed like them
Of Eros and of dust,
Beleaguered by the same
Negation and despair,
Show an affirming flame.
George Eliot

Middlemarch Finale
The growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts; and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs.


For I have learned
To look on nature, not as in the hour
Of thoughtless youth; but hearing oftentimes
The still, sad music of humanity,
Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power
To chasten and subdue.

Against this view I could pose:-


William Shakespeare Hamlet

"What a piece of work is a man! how noble in reason!
how infinite in faculty! in form and moving how
express and admirable! in action how like an angel!
in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the
world! the paragon of animals! And yet, to me,
what is this quintessence of dust? man delights not


Byron - Childe Harald


"History is but the one page over and over"


My own view veers with the wind from one side of  the fence to the other -you can read my attempt to express the two opposing views at:-



AS to which of the lines was Jolen's inspiration I cannot tell - perhaps

"Wasted, to the shadows of evening."


The best line/sentence in my view is


"The more
Noble among us persist in their attempts,
Out of misplaced confidence, or mere ego, to
Resurrect the beauty of our
Ancestral simplicities."


Which of course instigated the discussion above.


Anyway I enjoyed very much reading this thoughtful and thought provoking piece.


Warm Wishes



Comment By: FreeHeike on November 27, 2006 03:18:02 PM Report
I think I can guess which one....
Still, you make the poem flow so well and effortlessly that I'm stunned.
Forget it, James, you just can't write a weak one ;-).

Comment By: TrialAnn on November 26, 2006 02:32:37 PM Report
While written in excellent style and form, this is very sad and
depressing James! It feels like hitting your head against a brick offers so much and the narrow scope of thinking in this has
its merit in life, I just don't quite see it that way. Thank you anyway
for your melancholy write. It has some great lines in it...Ann

Comment By: FreeShe Whispers on November 26, 2006 01:12:24 PM Report

 Your wisdom is just awesome as I read what your thinking in this poem.. I must say I read it several times to get the whole picture you have painted.. Your the best... ~ She Whispers

Comment By: FreeAdri on November 26, 2006 11:59:34 AM Report
Oh just brilliant again!!  You talent will be legendary one day... 
Adri x


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