Ode on a Funerary Urn.
June 30, 2008 at 7:11 pm | Posted in poetry, writing | 37 CommentsTags: poetry, writing
To Dust
In this room there is no furniture at all
just space created by four bare walls
divided by a single slanting shaft of golden light
through which tiny silent curlicues of dust drift
pirouette without purpose in immaculate duets
fall like lives lived behind closed doors
and land gently on a white marble floor.
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‘pirouette without purpose in immaculate duets’
beautiful!
Comment by Queen of the Universe— June 30, 2008 #
This is lovely, indeed. Delicate.
Comment by Tina Trivett— June 30, 2008 #
No such thing as an empty anything obviously. So very nicely done.
Comment by Simonne— June 30, 2008 #
i feel humbled to have underestimated the grandieur heights of the lives of dust. : )
if i had observed with any respect, i might find it that lovely. the idea of dust dancing within a ray of light. it really is sort of heavenly.
also, i like that you added the floor was marble. in my mind i had created it a gray cement. but had to paint it over in my head with the last of the poem.
Comment by mrs. sarah OTT.— June 30, 2008 #
is there a deflating beach ball hanging around in some corner? teehee
Comment by aefiel— June 30, 2008 #
Perfect. Smooth. Strong. Evocative.
Perfect.
Comment by Sumedh— July 1, 2008 #
Great, though this is brief, it is maginficent. You have mastery over imagery! Can’t wait to read more
Comment by dfrucci— July 1, 2008 #
what a place to be. are there any architects here?perhaps more writers should also be architects. theres a curiously ambiguous mood here, perhaps? Is it sad? Or is the room merely empty?
Whose room is it? is it anybodies at all?
great.
Comment by peterandthehare— July 1, 2008 #
it’s that place…..we’ve all seen it a time or two, yes?.. ghosts leave no prints i suppose… beautiful
Comment by one more believer— July 1, 2008 #
i could breathe in there. oscar levant said he had no pictures on his walls. someone asked him “what do you have against pictures?” he answered “what do you have against walls?”
btw, i changed the settings you mentioned in your comment about buenos aires, and thanks so much for your well wishing! from a writer like you it means everything!
Comment by tipota— July 1, 2008 #
I think maybe it is a very beautiful room – those dust dances hold many memories I should imagine. You convey the colour in this poem so clearly – a starkness which is almost blinding before you allow it to dim into serenity.
Comment by Mary P— July 1, 2008 #
oooh really lovely movement piece. i especially loved your use of the word pirouette. wonderful, as always. :]
Comment by lissa— July 1, 2008 #
Well, now I understand why your poems are so great, you know, my obsession with the technicalities of poetics. And aside from the music of the words, there is this slightly surreal and silent image. You are so gifted.
Comment by writer reading— July 1, 2008 #
beautiful, fascinating
so thoughtful of you to allow those lives lived behind closed doors to go gently into that good night instead of crashing into the marble…
Comment by artpredator— July 1, 2008 #
Paul –
I’ll never think of dust in the same way again…
Captivating. Sheer perfection!
Your relationship with words is so deep and true, they have gifted you with all of their secrets…
Mx
Comment by Melana— July 1, 2008 #
The beauty of the words and the sound belies the melancholy of the poem, how lives of those we’ll never know are like specks of dust, albeit lovely dust. Wonderful poem.
There’s something about this poem that reminds me of 19th century Latin America poets, especially Ruben Dario.
Comment by Christine— July 1, 2008 #
This post is remarkably well written. I would quote my favorite line, but I would just end up quoting the whole thing. Thank you for posting it.
Comment by Paul— July 1, 2008 #
song of the inevitable. ~sigh~
and if we sift through the dust and ashes, we’ll find the ultimate truth that in the end there’s no difference between all of us. no matter how we dance it, we’re all on the same path.
Comment by Lakota— July 1, 2008 #
dust is highly under-valued. in a conspicuous world, it is the hidden things that i awaken to!
Comment by Laure— July 1, 2008 #
Perfect example of chaotic motion. Well, that’s what my dad taught me!
😀
Comment by gautami tripathy— July 1, 2008 #
Pauls dearest dearest one;) I read all the way back to early november my head is buzzing with you, ill email my requests but I wanted to instantly reflect how much I loved my morning in your mind. I had a wonderful wonderous time;)
Buzzing joyously in beautyful perspectives
Ivy
Comment by Ivy— July 2, 2008 #
Thanks everybody for all the wonderful feedback. These comments are like a gorgeous garden overflowing with spring flowers. I have been a bit busy lately and so my posting has become a bit erratic but I hope to be back to writing everyday sometime this week. Again, thankyou, my life is enriched in a very real way by your generousity.
Comment by Paul— July 2, 2008 #
This is freaking AWESOME! I LOVE this! I am deeply impressed with this, just think it rocks! And the groovy thing about that is that if I thought it sucked, you know I’d be just as honest. lol damn, I need another beer. I’m not kidding pal, this was just simply beautiful. I bow to the author. :o)
Comment by Fabian G. Franklin— July 2, 2008 #
Read it again, still admire the austerity of the scene, the light,the whole shebang. I haven’t been posting every day either. Good things are worth the wait.
Comment by christine— July 2, 2008 #
Just looked up Gysin, how exciting! Thank you for mentioning him to me, now I have to find his books, god, more books to buy, my floor is littered with them.
Comment by christine— July 2, 2008 #
for me, elements of exile and loss exist in this piece… but not the kind of exile and loss that make grown men weep… on the contrary… the kind that some men introduce into their chaotic lives in order to find a bit of solace…
Comment by Chico Mahalo— July 3, 2008 #
so much subtledepth, innuendo, spirit … this. is. gorgeous.
Comment by Shell— July 4, 2008 #
This was sad 😦 … And beautiful and briliant too! … Gosh, its galling to be repetitive but you leave no choice …
Comment by Mental Mist— July 6, 2008 #
So beautifully written, so beautifully said..so why am I weeping?, the old man said
Comment by nectarfizz— July 6, 2008 #
Paul, I have read the past three writings, and it is an inspiration to my eyes, and my thoughts.
If ever I needed a eulogy…..I would want one from you…you capture life, and death with grace, and beauty always.
((((YOU))))
(((((((((((((((you))))))))))))))
Comment by Amber— July 7, 2008 #
You made me think of my Great Aunt who was much like your poem. She always reminded me of an alabaster container of a fragile and pale life, cut off from the world in self-containment! (So my Aunt Alma reminded me of a funerary urn?) You’re a remarkable writer. Then you must be aware of that after we’ve all screamed it at you for so long! I love how you’ve captured the feeling of the inside of the urn containing a life in so few lines. Clear, precise encircling of a person & idea in words. The definition of succinct. Another beautiful poem, Paul. Love it, love it.
Comment by Mimi— July 10, 2008 #
Thanks Mimi. You are a wonderful friend and a great poet and I miss your writing. How much longer til your book is reconstructed? I can’t wait that long. (((you)))
Comment by Paul— July 10, 2008 #
absolutely gorgeous.
Comment by psychobillygirl— September 2, 2009 #
Indeed beautiful and brilliant – thanks for reposting this wonderful gem of a poem. It’s made me rather sad.
Comment by Gabrielle Bryden— September 2, 2009 #
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