Little stone god
small as a pebble
are you controlling
the fate of the world?
Little pink god
fallen from heaven
how large were you there?
how small are you now?
Little lost god
how shall you return?
Shall you burn, baby burn
in the Father's stern gaze?
Little veined god
is it blood that I see -
or a depth that will deepen
the spirit in me?
Little loved god
I'll not throw you back
I'll treasure the fortune
that brought you to me.
Little lewd god
how tactile you feel
when my fingers caress you
all stress disappears.
Little dumb god
it's silent you are...
your siblings still rattle
around on the beach.
Little bright god
polished by seas
you shine like a sun -
a sun cold as ice.
Little proud god
yet hungry for love
if all the world loved thee
would that be enough?
Little stone god
a stone like the stones
that cover the beach -
Oh, commonplace god!
The moon petals the sea. Rose petals the sea. Stone sea. Stone petals. Rose petals of stone. Stone rising before me. Sea moves. How moves...
extract from the poem Koi by John Burnside All afternoon we've wandered from the pool to alpine beds and roses ...
It all depends, you see, how you go about it. And that I cannot tell you, for that will be dictated by you and by you knowing your friends...
Hello everyone who follows David King (My Father). On behalf of the family this post is to let you know that Dad sadly passed away, peacefu...
A Birthday in April ~ Wordsworth Prompt from The Imaginary Garden with Real Toads (The first of three posts which will celebrate the l...
Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)
Enjoyed this very much. I have a habit of picking up stones myself! Interesting take on the subject matter.
A fine piece, David. How long does it take (I hope you don't mind me asking) to write something this powerful?
It always makes me thing Dave - the stones on a beach - where have they come from - Like this very much.
Oh, Dave, I don't even know what to say when I read your stuff. It must be boring to read simply, it made me smile, laugh outright, AND think all at once. But, then, that's what your writing does. PLUS there is beauty throughout. Of course, I liked the "Little lewd God" and last line, "Oh, commonplace god!" The most, but one might have predicted that, given who I am. Visiting your blog each day with my coffee is just a terrific middle of my day.
Yes, me too! In fact, I usually have one in my pocket, just to handle from time to time!
I don't mind at all - especially on this occasion. Actually, it took very little time at all. Not much longer than the time it took towrite it out. The idea for it came late at night, just as I was off to bed. I wrote out the first verse and then jotted down some key words to put me on track for the rest of it in the morning. The following morning I wrote it out - 12 verses. I then changed a couple of verses and the position of a third, changed a few words and took out two verses (One of which I have reinstated since posting - sorry about that, folks!) - and that was about it. I consider it one of my successes, and they quite often go that easily. The more I have to work at something, the more it reads like chopped-up prose.
I agree. I really love investigating them to see what I can find.
Well, now it's me not knowing what to say. Not knowing what to say by way of thank you for such a very generous response. It all goes to make the effort of blogging feel more than worth while. Much, much thanks!
I enjoyed it and once more heard Blake's echoes from the Songs of Innocence and Experience..
I've always collected stones off the beach. I've got two in my bag at the moment that are so polished by my hands that they shine. It's a lovely feeling to turn them over in the palm of your hand. Great thoughts.
This is wonderful I love how each verse becomes a little 'pearl' that you so cunningly thread through to the end. Good stuff!
Each verse in itself is a story, very vivid and enjoyable :-).
This is beautiful verse, love it :)
Great poem! God is stoned.
As the 24 hour snow storm begins moving into Toronto, leaving behind 30 centimeters of snow.... stones at the beach are a wonderful thought. I will go into the other room and find mine in the drawer so I can think my summery thoughts. Thank you sharing this poem Dave. Your curiosity just shines!
a pebble on beach is lonely and lovely in poetry.
This is just wonderful, Dave. Indeed, few people are monotheistic despite their claims to the contrary.
You know, I don't know if either of us has ever visited the other's blog, but I've read your comments so often and in so many places that I feel like I know you.
Wow! You really couldn't say anything more encouraging. Thanks!
It's almost a universal feeling, I would guess - sticking my neck out slightly!
What a lovely way of putting it! Thanks greatly.
Thank you. Much appreciated.
That means a lot.
In a manner of speaking...
That souns like a brilliant strategy to get you through.
It arose from a memory that was dreamy. Thanks for the comment.
Yes, I have been to your blog - and will again. Thanks for the compliment. It is reciprocated.
Wonderful stones, all, Dave!
Thanks for that Rachel. Much appreciated.
Really nice one Dave. You took me a few different places in this one, but the obvious one was my favorite it brought me to the quiet early morning of a bayside beach with wonderful light and every small rock you touch seems like something you must keep and treasure....
That's where I started, so it's appropriate that there should be where we both ended up. Appreciate the comment.
Thanks, Dave. I find the writing process always fascinating and marvel at something that would take me weeks to accomplish.
Excellent, Dave. As a fellow beachcomber who has found many little stone gods but never written them up, this fits the bill perfectly.
Yes, difficult to stay a monotheist on a beach, isn't it?
Thanks for your comment.
Some do take weeks, even months or years! Very short works usually take the longest (no where to hide!), but are most often the exception - if that makes sense!
Post a Comment