by strannikov
this granite's been cool for its millions of years
and seen more than three-thousand million bright suns
(not to mention all those eclipses and clouds),
rain, snow, sleet, and ice fall to greet its ascent
as it continues lifting under the moon.
that moon does not think (unless mineral thoughts),
exercises no will its orbit can trace,
has not one illuminating word to breathe—
yet it directs the paths of oceans and seas,
steers the lift of mountains from the earth's own guts,
circulates blood in each terrestrial eye.
11
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The Moon has its mountains and its claims on ours.
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I enjoyed the moon's ways:"directs", "steers", "circulates".
The eleven stresses per line would never be noticed if you didn't count them. That disguises its oulipo aspect. Incidentally, to attribute "intention" to the universe is to use the inanimate per se as a metaphor for wonderment; at least it would be so for readers for whom the universe is devoid of meaning or intention. For this reason I found the poem thought-provoking.
Powerful, profound. I love how the preceding lines lead to the final line macro to micro. Very effective.
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Good stuff, Edward.
The title's a well-chosen one. I might not have noticed the structure otherwise. It sounds very good read aloud, btw.
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Unless mineral thoughts.
*Beautifully wrought & a new word for me.
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"has not one illuminating word to breathe—"
Remarkable piece. A view of the universe from the inside out. Good poem.
Very gripping, ah, tugging piece.
has not one illuminating word to breathe—
yet it directs the paths of oceans and seas,*
And, a light in the darkness.
Outstanding, Edward.
circulates blood in each terrestrial eye. ***