The seventh of a series of twelve. Originally published in the anthology Terra Firma in 2004.
Shutters VII
Wherein the glass changes hands and becomes
framed, failing, without reference
to resolve the internal process:
solid to liquid, the uncertain union
rendered in the idiom of
illumination, one’s transparent shade responding
to light, another’s subsumed, joined in
the essential plight of taste and
taster, preceding the other, but lost, alone.
From eye to lip, the inevitable differs.
Beautiful, Robert!
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Thank you, Randy.
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A beautifully written series of poems. 🙂
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You are always so kind, Brenda. Thank you.
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My pleasure, Robert. You have a wonderful gift. 🙂
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Aw, shucks. Now I’m blushing. Or is it the beer? 🙂
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It’s probably the beer haha 😊
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No doubt.
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Cheers!😊
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Excellent. Such poise.
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Thanks, Michael. Sometimes the words just seem to fall in place. Sometimes they don’t. 🙂
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Very well done sir! 😀
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Thanks very much.
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I’m partial to the final three lines.
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I’m so pleased you feel that way. Thank you.
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That last line – so deep! I read it over and over, and it ripples out and knocks on bone at the same time. Beautiful, Bob!
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Thank you, Lynne. Now let’s talk about your comment: Wow! Wish I’d written “ripples out and knocks on bone…”
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Oh thanks! Sometime, we’ll have to try one of those collaborative poems where you go back and forth! I just love the elegance of your thought and language – so inspirational!
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One of these days, Lynne!
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This is excellent.
My mind immediately turned to thoughts of glass blowing – of my thoughts of that glass blower while transforming his vision into something physical and whole, while I wonder what his thoughts are of the transformation from solid back to liquid and back again with the realization of his vision. Also as an observer, my thoughts of the transformation and of the relationship between creator and observer. Almost like this poem.
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Light to dark, liquid to solid and back again…
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these phrases
twinkle with
my monitor’s light 🙂
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They’re winking at you (but in a good way!).
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i think i am right in noticing that each poem is 3 tercets & a single lined envoi; is there any particular reason for this form?
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There is no reason for the form, certainly no thought put into it. It simply came to be as I wrote the first poem. I liked the result and decided to write ten like it in the series. So of course I wrote twelve.
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i was trying to link it to the shape of blinds, but it seemed more logical then for the form to be couplets. it works, taut as blinds, enough space for light & dark to compliment one another.
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Couplets are my “default,” but they never were a consideration for these. Strange, now that I think of it.
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