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Typhoon, Nature *** |
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Jul 23 13, 00:41
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Ornate Oracle
Group: Praetorian
Posts: 8,770
Joined: 27-August 04
From: Bariloche, Argentine Patagonia
Member No.: 78
Real Name: Sylvia Evelyn Maclagan
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:David Ting
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I've changed the name of the poem to Typhoon because that's what cyclones are called in the Philippines. I was recently reading about the differences betweem these catastrophes, and it turns out the names are more geographical than anything else. Except when a tsunami also occurs, or earthquakes under the sea, etc. This disaster in the Philippines was caused by incredibly high winds that hit the islands' shores with immense force. My first poem was about the 1991 cyclone in Bangladesh, when about 138.000 people died and millions went homeless. One can't keep up with the rising number of gigantic storms worldwide. As human development thrives, and global temperature continues to rise, natural protection from tidal waves and cyclones is being degraded at alarming rates. This will inevitably lead to species loss in richly bio-diverse parts of the world, if nothing is done to stop it.
New version of poem I wrote in 2007. That one was specifically about a cyclone in Bangladesh, called "Sidr". Due to recent giant waves destroying and flooding various areas of the world, this poem could be about any of them, excluding, maybe, countries with early-warning systems. But not necessarily. Chile suffered vast destruction in 2010 in spite of sofisticated early-warning systems all along the Pacific. The poor, as usual, were worst hit.
REVISION
Devilish winds blow fierce, carving visceral death, watery death, death of unknown souls; blazing bitter death, branded by splintered wood and hurtling sails. Life pulped by bamboo death-traps.
Awesome becomes awful.
A malodorous and malign monster wraps devastation in primal silence. Verdant land vanished long ago: hunger on hunger on hunger, unforgiving. Slapped by cyclones, brightness is eclipsed in bouncing bays. Airports, seaports, ferries awaken warily. ‘Copters fling food packs.
Unclaimed corpses, victuals for vermin. Dogs slink in shattered huts, sniffing at clueless cadavers. A woman picks a path over branches and slush, lifting torn skirt, legs battered and bleeding. She shakes huddled children awake.
Drowsiness threatens defeated, O seductive sleep of slaughter! To die, to die, almost pleasing in wake of catastrophes. Soldiers overload stretchers to nowhere hospitals.
Moans knife my heart, foul waters steep my eyes… eyes of our distant cultures celebrating sacred seasons. We feast on ignorance. Does our living god bear their cross too? The world haphazardly heeds wails of faraway isles empty of joy, their villagers adrift in skulking lunacy as they pray to diverse divinities.
The winsome children are gone and a few folks return to routine starvation. Bounteous islands, your mangrove swamps degraded, traded, jaded. How do your harvests fare, milenial barriers blasted?
Did man or nature create the beast?
By Psyche Copyright: Sylvia Evelyn, Buenos Aires, Argentina, 2014.
ORIGINAL VERSION
Devilish winds blow fierce, carving visceral death, watery death, death of unknown souls; blazing bitter death, branded by splintered wood and hurtling sails. Life pulped by bamboo death-traps.
Awesome becomes awful.
A malodorous and malign monster wraps devastation in primal silence. Verdant land vanished long ago: hunger on hunger on hunger, unforgiving. Slapped by cyclones, brightness is eclipsed in bouncing bays. Airports, seaports, ferries awaken warily. ‘Copters fling food packs.
Unclaimed corpses, victuals for vermin. Dogs slink in shattered huts, sniffing at clueless cadavers. A woman picks a path over branches and slush, lifting torn skirt, legs battered and bleeding. She shakes huddled children awake.
Drowsiness threatens defeated, O seductive sleep of slaughter! To die, to die, almost pleasing in wake of cyclones.
Moans knife my heart, foul waters steep my eyes… eyes of distant cultures celebrating their sacred seasons. But the winsome children are gone, and a few folks return to routine starvation. Soldiers overload stretchers to nowhere hospitals.
The world haphazardly heeds wails of faraway isles empty of joy, their villagers adrift in skulking lunacy as they pray to silent gods.
Bounteous islands, your mangrove swamps degraded, how do your harvests fare, natural protection gone?
Did man or nature create the beast?
I know no living god bearing your cross. We feast on ignorance.
By Psyche
Copyright: Sylvia Evelyn, Buenos Aires, Argentina, 2013.
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Mis temas favoritos The Lord replied, my precious, precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.
"There is no life higher than the grasstops Or the hearts of sheep, and the wind Pours by like destiny, bending Everything in one direction."
Sylvia Plath, Crossing the Water, Wuthering Heights. Nominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here!MM Award Winner
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Jul 24 13, 08:59
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Group: Gold Member
Posts: 327
Joined: 17-May 08
From: San Juan Puerto Rico
Member No.: 508
Real Name: Sergio Ortiz
Writer of: Poetry
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QUOTE blazing bitter death, branded by splintered wood and hurtling sails. Life pulped by bamboo death-traps. I like your opening lines Sylvia. But I am not sure you need: Awesome becomes awful. It becomes kind of obvious in the following stanzas. QUOTE But the winsome children are gone, and a few folks return to routine starvation. Soldiers overload stretchers to nowhere hospitals. I like these lines also. I think the closing could be stronger. Sergio
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Jul 26 13, 23:46
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Ornate Oracle
Group: Praetorian
Posts: 8,770
Joined: 27-August 04
From: Bariloche, Argentine Patagonia
Member No.: 78
Real Name: Sylvia Evelyn Maclagan
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:David Ting
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Hi Sergio,
Thanks for stopping by and making great suggestions.
QUOTE (saore @ Jul 24 13, 11:59 ) QUOTE blazing bitter death, branded by splintered wood and hurtling sails. Life pulped by bamboo death-traps. I like your opening lines Sylvia. <<<<<Thank you. But I am not sure you need: Awesome becomes awful. It becomes kind of obvious in the following stanzas. Yes, I'll think about that one, Sergio. It's in italics because I quoted the line from some report on cyclones, ages ago. They are indeed an awesome "show" put on by nature, but awful in down to earth reality. Thanks!QUOTE But the winsome children are gone, and a few folks return to routine starvation. Soldiers overload stretchers to nowhere hospitals. I like these lines also. <<<<<Thanks again, Sergio.I think the closing could be stronger. <<<<<< It's probably not clear to the reader. I'll see what I can do. The original, ghastly Bangladesh cyclone happened on Christmas Day for westerners. So then I used "Christmas", instead of "sacred seasons" in another stanza, further up. Starvation was rampant in Bangladesh long before the cyclone. As more and more catastrophes keep happening all over the world (recent earthquake in China), I keep making different versions of originals. You've made a good point, Sergio.
Sylvia
Sergio
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Mis temas favoritos The Lord replied, my precious, precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.
"There is no life higher than the grasstops Or the hearts of sheep, and the wind Pours by like destiny, bending Everything in one direction."
Sylvia Plath, Crossing the Water, Wuthering Heights. Nominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here!MM Award Winner
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Oct 23 13, 01:04
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Ornate Oracle
Group: Praetorian
Posts: 8,770
Joined: 27-August 04
From: Bariloche, Argentine Patagonia
Member No.: 78
Real Name: Sylvia Evelyn Maclagan
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:David Ting
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Hi Leigh Ann,
Thank you for commenting on my poem. At least two people have suggested a more powerful ending, so I'll really do something about it.
I don't think we've met before, but I understand you're not a new member. Glad you've returned and I'm looking forward to reading your poems.
I've been absent lately due to personal problems, but I hope to be back soon and will comment on a poem you posted and I just took a peek at it now!
Sylvia aka Psyche
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Mis temas favoritos The Lord replied, my precious, precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.
"There is no life higher than the grasstops Or the hearts of sheep, and the wind Pours by like destiny, bending Everything in one direction."
Sylvia Plath, Crossing the Water, Wuthering Heights. Nominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here!MM Award Winner
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Nov 22 13, 15:55
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Mosaic Master
Group: Administrator
Posts: 18,892
Joined: 1-August 03
From: Massachusetts
Member No.: 2
Real Name: Lori Kanter
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:Imhotep
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Hi Syl, I really LOVE this! I'm not dancing coz of the topic, but because of the alliteration and imagery. My suggestion is to simply remove the last line: I know no living god bearing your cross. We feast on ignorance. so the poem ends with: Did man or nature create the beast?Enjoyed the read! ~Cleo
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"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to." ~ J.R.R Tolkien, The Lord of the RingsCollaboration feeds innovation. In the spirit of workshopping, please revisit those threads you've critiqued to see if the author has incorporated your ideas, or requests further feedback from you. In addition, reciprocate with those who've responded to you in kind. "I believe it is the act of remembrance, long after our bones have turned to dust, to be the true essence of an afterlife." ~ Lorraine M. KanterNominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here! "Worry looks around, Sorry looks back, Faith looks up." ~ Early detection can save your life.MM Award Winner
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Dec 1 13, 23:53
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Ornate Oracle
Group: Praetorian
Posts: 8,770
Joined: 27-August 04
From: Bariloche, Argentine Patagonia
Member No.: 78
Real Name: Sylvia Evelyn Maclagan
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:David Ting
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QUOTE (Cleo_Serapis @ Nov 22 13, 18:55 ) Hi Syl, I really LOVE this! I'm not dancing coz of the topic, but because of the alliteration and imagery. Tx, Lori!!My suggestion is to simply remove the last line: I know no living god bearing your cross. We feast on ignorance. I'm a bit stumped with the ending. Or stubborn...LOL... What I'm trying to get at is that in western countries we're having lots of festivities, mostly religious, with superb meals and maybe gifts for everybody. Remember that the Bangladesh disaster happened on Christmas Eve, and this Philippines one was fairly recent, and millions of people, children, vulnerable ones, are going to be homeless, hungry and miserable while we "feast on ignorance". Well, sort of, hardly anybody wants to talk about it as a topic. Help arrives, but it's never enough. And very little is being done about climate change, as if meetings in 2015 would be of any use. Etc. I promise to think about it. Christianity, as a whole, is not bearing the cross for these unfortunate millions. Yet we pray to a living god...
so the poem ends with: Did man or nature create the beast?Enjoyed the read! I'm so glad, Lori!! Tx again.~Cleo I'll try to give it a different spiritual ending, maybe subtly introducing the idea of hypocracy. Hmm...
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Mis temas favoritos The Lord replied, my precious, precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.
"There is no life higher than the grasstops Or the hearts of sheep, and the wind Pours by like destiny, bending Everything in one direction."
Sylvia Plath, Crossing the Water, Wuthering Heights. Nominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here!MM Award Winner
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Jan 2 14, 19:04
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Mosaic Master
Group: Praetorian
Posts: 4,599
Joined: 4-August 03
From: Birmingham, England
Member No.: 12
Real Name: Eira Needham
Writer of: Poetry
Referred By:Lori
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Hi Syl, I love the images you have skilfully woven into this one and I look forward to reading your new ending. Hugs Snow
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Feb 20 14, 00:56
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Ornate Oracle
Group: Praetorian
Posts: 8,770
Joined: 27-August 04
From: Bariloche, Argentine Patagonia
Member No.: 78
Real Name: Sylvia Evelyn Maclagan
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:David Ting
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Hi Eisa, Lori, Leigh Ann, Sergio and all who made suggestions!
At last I've found time to revise this poem. I've been moving house, hubby and cat, with all that that implies. Have to adapt to mountains and lakes, having lived for about 30 years in a big city. I actually miss my neighbourhood, some friends, the easy access to shops, all the movement... I'm still open to suggestions, thank you!! Syl*** QUOTE (Eisa @ Jan 2 14, 21:04 ) Hi Syl, I love the images you have skilfully woven into this one and I look forward to reading your new ending. Hugs Snow
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Mis temas favoritos The Lord replied, my precious, precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.
"There is no life higher than the grasstops Or the hearts of sheep, and the wind Pours by like destiny, bending Everything in one direction."
Sylvia Plath, Crossing the Water, Wuthering Heights. Nominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here!MM Award Winner
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