Monday, September 3, 2007

Poetry Train Monday - 17 - Citadel











Here's my very latest poem, finished today. It feels so nice to have a few in the works. I find poetry to be more like sculpting. It's a very different process for me than prose. I often write a stanza and then leave it for a bit, standing back to see how it wants to reveal itself to me.


Citadel


I've built my own keep
Brick by smiling brick
No room at the inn
How they suffer
Bottomless and vast
I kick fresh straw
Free another corner in the stable

I'm greedy with compassion
My outstretched hand
Beacon of sanctuary
They see a wave of cheer
Though it flails to break a fall
I limp and soldier on
Grimace or grin, hard to say

I'm pilloried by pride
So many heads
Invited to my shoulder
My neck stiff with them
Progress is glacial
Boulders uproot to be
Dragged, scouring the bedrock



















I've built my own fortress
The bricks all made of smiles
The bedrock is compassion
The moat was dredged by pride
My arms stretch wide like ramparts
Chains release the drawbridge
I am their refuge. They are mine.


Copyright 2007 Julia Smith

21 comments:

Thomma Lyn said...

Wow. Just wow. What a wonderful poem. In so many ways and on so many levels, it spoke to me.

Thank you for sharing.

Dorothy said...

I love your site. Thanks for stopping by to meet me. Your poetry is superb.

Dorothy

tegdirb92 said...

what a wonderful poem!! Very gifted and talented you are to write such beautiful words. WONDERFUL!

Skittles said...

That is amazing.

Akelamalu said...

Wonderful

You have an award Julia, please call by to collect it. :)

gautami tripathy said...

THat kind of reaches out to me. Very metaphorical.

Christine d'Abo said...

Amazing poem, Julia. And I love the pictures you put with it.

T.A.Chase said...

awesome poem, Julia.

Isn't it strange how we set out to offer support to friends and strangers only to find out that they've become our support as well?

Rhian / Crowwoman said...

powerful Julia! this stanza is not only beautifully uttered but deeply moving as well:
"I'm greedy with compassion
My outstretched hand
Beacon of sanctuary
They see a wave of cheer
Though it flails to break a fall
I limp and soldier on
Grimace or grin, hard to say"

Nancy said...

I really like this. So much going on. I love the visual impact I get.

Amy Ruttan said...

Great poem! I always wonder if the old warlords did feel that way.

Great job.

Sparky Duck said...

this is really quite good. It speaks alot about you

Susan Helene Gottfried said...

Yeah, I know how you feel in this one. And I love the way in which you've expressed it, Julia. Powerful. Beautiful. And with an image of a castle... we can all relate to it.

Jill said...

I wish all citedel were like that!!

rhet said...

I am their refuge. They are mine.

Yes indeed. If only it were always so.

Samantha Lucas said...

Your poetry is always so beautiful. :)

Isabella Snow said...

Greedy with compassion - love it!! Very nice!

Ann said...

Beautiful poem, and lovely pictures you've used as accompaniement.

Karina said...

There were so many levels to this as I was reading it. I love how I could see the words building the images in my head as I was pulled in more and more. Beautiful!

I can't write poetry the way you do, being able to step away from it and build it that way...mine either all pours out of me, or doesn't come at all.

Camille Alexa said...

I find poetry to be more like sculpting. It's a very different process for me than prose.

So true! I love the sentiment.

Er said...

Thank-you Julia. You've inspired this non-poet to venture into verse (please pardon me):

Dunnottar still stands
peopled by pigeons
coolish and gray ever after
sanctimonious Cromwell attacked
and beat the doors in.

Slowly and steadily you've built your own
keep brick by smiling brick
cemented on that firm crux
stretched wide where there is always
room to be let in.