Opening Your Fiery Eyes
by Darryl Price
as I imagine
only you can
you're the ocean on fire
before anyone else has
broken that ancient seal, or simply
taken the first icy plunge.
You can eat
all the bitter
fruit there is, but that still
doesn't make the
world a more hateful
place. Only people can
do that. Bittersweet
can be a
delightful excursion upon the tongue, but
this doesn't give your
brain the
right to declare
war on all opposites.It's all the more white than the whitest of faithful
sands.I only wish
I could play
my sweet song into
your lovely head and that pulse
would give you
a purely free thought. Just one.One.
I should very
much have liked
our golden moment
to have turned
into a major forest in our time.
Bonus poem:
by Darryl Price
All my life people have referred
To me as, "Big Guy!"-- from
The time I was a little kid
To just recently when I was
Standing in line to meet Lady GaGa. Well
That last part's maybe not so true but you get
My meaning's picture. It doesn't matter who,
It doesn't matter where. Total
Strangers will call forth that mongrel
Moniker as easily as
Sliding weekly foodstuffs into
A brown paper sack. It's done with
The flick of a wrist and nothing
More difficult than that. You know
The Bumblebee bat weighs less than
A penny? You could hold one on
The end of your thumb or scoop him
Up inside a plastic ice cream
Spork and probably still have some
Room left over for play. Full grown
He's only about 11 mm in
Length. Yeah I know that's so cute! The
World's tiniest bird is a hummingbird
From Cuba that beats its
Wings an estimated 80 times
Per second. Speaking of bees he's
Scarcely larger than a honey bee. And
My own personal favorite big
Guy happens to be the Western Pygmy Blue
Butterfly usually found in
Coastal regions throughout the
Southern United States. My kind
Of Mr.big that. My kind of breeze if you catch my radar. Flits
About on a wingspan of just around
Five to seven millimeters in length ;with
Little brown wings that become a
Beautiful powdery blue the
Closer they get to his terrier body.
And don't even get me started
On Pygmy Hippos! So from one
Bee poet to the next, my friends, please be kind
To the critically endangered
Among us. Yeah I know that was
A tricky way to get you to
Think about the molecular
Arrangement of things; remember,for as long
As this poem shall last I am only
Refracting words, reflecting light your way.
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Author's Note
I remember I was so in the zone on this one. I could feel myself glowing. It was pouring out of me. It even glowed on the page. I felt like I had invented everything for the first time. Then disaster struck and I was left watching everything I owned flowing down the river to nowhere. I gathered what I could from the banks and made a fire with it. Here's the ash.A smudge.
Other stories by Darryl Price
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Darryl: These stream-of-consciousness poems are quite remarkable. I am transfixed by the juxtaposition of ideas and imagery.
Gorgeous, gorgeous.
*
Nicely done, Darryl. fave
Nice form and balance, DP. Good read.
Well, here's the full story. And it's a sad one. I had been making notes all night and day concerning this particular poem. When I finally thought I had enough material to start mixing it into the bowl I went to Fictionaut. There I spent a good long time laying it down just right. I was happy. I thought,"This is the one they'll put into all the anthologies after I'm dead!" But then something awful happened. I hit the wrong button on my computer and everything froze. My daughter and I both tried for hours to find someway to unfreeze it and save it,but in the end we had to unplug. Couldn't you just copy it by hand you say? No,because I was adding the companion notes below it when it happened and it didn't even
appear on the screen. It was in the virtual heavens above. My heart was broken.I physically felt as though I had been stabbed. But the villain was me!Anyway my daughter suggested I try to reconstruct it from memory but I only had fragments left in my head and notes. These I used to make the one you see here. I like it. It works. It has its own beauty. But I've learned a valuable lesson. Certain mundane precautions must be taken in art or you risk losing the momentum of your creation...
Lovely sentiment. Lovely poem.
*
"I wish
I could play
a song into
your head that
would give you
a purely free thought."
DP, I just re-read the poem, because I liked it so much on first reading. Of course I have no idea about the original, but I have to say that this situation has happened to me, too, and I think it's a blessing in disguise. (don't know why I feel that, but just do). Because the unconscious held on to fragments and possibly excerpted the true gems for the new poem.
Tough deal about the first poem. I've had that happen and it makes you heartsick. Very much liked the new one, however, and deserving of its *.
Darryl, if I hadn't known the "story" behind this version of your poem, I'd have never known this was not the original. It is stunning, straightforward, so wonderful, and an absolute fave.