rocketman
03-27-2009, 10:07 AM
On the way home yestertoday I heard a song with lyrics taken from a poem by Edger Allan Poe. Triggered by whatever process it is that brings forth the creative process within me, a thought formed, laying the foundation for the verse below. While I have never been able to fathom how these moments come about, I know how fleeting they are and if I fail to capture them even as they form, they may well depart and be forever lost.
By the time I got home I had the theme or concept pretty much fleshed out, now it was merely a matter of rearranging the pattern of lines and words already formulated and committing them to (electronic) paper.
What’s curious about it (the poem), is that it is the antithesis (of the process) of how the poem was brought into being, almost self-referential in that sense.
This morning as I sat working on the final version it struck me that there existed a deeper meaning contained within the composition that perhaps had contributed yet another level of inspiration. This related to having recently received word on the passing of a friend, marking the 5th such loss in less than two years. I was, at first, surprised at how deeply the news had affected me considering that we had only met in person a few times over a period of some 9 years. Yet I had always considered him my friend more than a mere acquaintance, it was one of those connections we make with certain individuals that is based not on length or frequency of visits but on some deeper level that we simply accept and cherish for its uniqueness. The last time I saw him was in 2006, when I spent an overnight visit with him at his abode in Kentucky. During the following two years as I laid my plans for each year’s summer motorcycle excursions, it was my intent to include a trip south for another visit with him. Yet each year it remained an unachieved goal. So this spring I determined that this would be the year I would make it down to see him, (perhaps motivated in part by a sub-couscous realization his health was failing based on my previous visit(?)). Now, of course, with his passing, it is too late and is yet another opportunity missed through lack of action.
That, I believe, is why the news of his passing moved me as it did. And because of that realization I struggled to find within me a composition to express that realization in verse. Again because I became so entwined in the struggle to find the words, they did not come, not until I simply let it go and let them come of their own accord. And so they did.
A loss suffered all the more because rather than acting, I let the process of planning interfere with the desired result by not simply packing the bike and Going.
Yet perhaps, having found some good, some inspiration within all this, his passing is less painful as it has re-taught me an important lesson and inspired a renewed determination to Act rather than merely Plan.
So for my friend and fellow Black Sheep, these words I offer…
Moon-Shadow Thoughts
As I sat, a thought began to form,
Encasing my frame
With its subtle semi-existence
Effervescing from the sub-conscious
To the conscious stream
Of my being
Even as it began
I endeavored to entrap it
Least it should escape like so many before
Even as I struggled
The evermore ethereal it became
Slipping further from me into the vast surrounds
Finally the struggle became all-encompassing
Leaving the thought to its escape
As I became the one ensnared
Having achieved its release
It now merged with its brethren in play
Captured by the moon-shadows sliding across the floor
_____Morning came,
Sweeping away the moon born shadows.
Now, once more I find myself sitting here
_____In solitude.
Devoid of even my thoughts for company
My friend Tim Bond (taken the last time I saw him in 2006)
http://roadrunes.com/images/Bondo/Bondo01.jpg
Jeff
By the time I got home I had the theme or concept pretty much fleshed out, now it was merely a matter of rearranging the pattern of lines and words already formulated and committing them to (electronic) paper.
What’s curious about it (the poem), is that it is the antithesis (of the process) of how the poem was brought into being, almost self-referential in that sense.
This morning as I sat working on the final version it struck me that there existed a deeper meaning contained within the composition that perhaps had contributed yet another level of inspiration. This related to having recently received word on the passing of a friend, marking the 5th such loss in less than two years. I was, at first, surprised at how deeply the news had affected me considering that we had only met in person a few times over a period of some 9 years. Yet I had always considered him my friend more than a mere acquaintance, it was one of those connections we make with certain individuals that is based not on length or frequency of visits but on some deeper level that we simply accept and cherish for its uniqueness. The last time I saw him was in 2006, when I spent an overnight visit with him at his abode in Kentucky. During the following two years as I laid my plans for each year’s summer motorcycle excursions, it was my intent to include a trip south for another visit with him. Yet each year it remained an unachieved goal. So this spring I determined that this would be the year I would make it down to see him, (perhaps motivated in part by a sub-couscous realization his health was failing based on my previous visit(?)). Now, of course, with his passing, it is too late and is yet another opportunity missed through lack of action.
That, I believe, is why the news of his passing moved me as it did. And because of that realization I struggled to find within me a composition to express that realization in verse. Again because I became so entwined in the struggle to find the words, they did not come, not until I simply let it go and let them come of their own accord. And so they did.
A loss suffered all the more because rather than acting, I let the process of planning interfere with the desired result by not simply packing the bike and Going.
Yet perhaps, having found some good, some inspiration within all this, his passing is less painful as it has re-taught me an important lesson and inspired a renewed determination to Act rather than merely Plan.
So for my friend and fellow Black Sheep, these words I offer…
Moon-Shadow Thoughts
As I sat, a thought began to form,
Encasing my frame
With its subtle semi-existence
Effervescing from the sub-conscious
To the conscious stream
Of my being
Even as it began
I endeavored to entrap it
Least it should escape like so many before
Even as I struggled
The evermore ethereal it became
Slipping further from me into the vast surrounds
Finally the struggle became all-encompassing
Leaving the thought to its escape
As I became the one ensnared
Having achieved its release
It now merged with its brethren in play
Captured by the moon-shadows sliding across the floor
_____Morning came,
Sweeping away the moon born shadows.
Now, once more I find myself sitting here
_____In solitude.
Devoid of even my thoughts for company
My friend Tim Bond (taken the last time I saw him in 2006)
http://roadrunes.com/images/Bondo/Bondo01.jpg
Jeff