Am I the diminished tree in distance
Shaken by wind blows, bent in waning light
Empty of nests, gnarled in mute existence
Am I the fallen leaf in snow-bleached night
Solitary figure, cut out of frame
Abandoned by time, dying out of sight
Am I the buried book, dame with lame name
To bellow brave exploits & loves, so lyrical
Stirring up grey eyes, a chanteuse proclaims
No, I refuse to be the invisible
Or silenced by brighter light, louder voice
I'm not just a chorus or syllable
My life is tapestry of songs, by choice
Woven of seasons & storms, growing rose
Grace@Winter
The title came from a conversation with a group of friends, having post Christmas dinner last Saturday night. We were all comparing our Christmas holidays and getting updates about how our children were doing. During his family gathering, my friend statement was, "Have I become invisible? I don't like it."
Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight. Also my entry for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetry form, Sonnet. If you have any inputs on improving my sonnet, please let me know in your comments below. Thanks for your visit.
Even if you tried, you could never be invisible; though the poem with other you or protagonist makes a solid point. Non-voters and non-participants are not doing themselves, or anyone else a favor.
ReplyDeleteGrace, I have never thought of you, as being invisible. Rather, a strong and warm personality, during my time of posting to d'Verse. Nurturing us, as we grow, as poets and people.
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed your trees and leaves, the build up to the 'invisible'. Good theme for a poem.
ReplyDeleteI love the sound and music of this, the rhymes "syllable/ invisible; "choice/ rose". It has seamless flow to it...well done, JIM
ReplyDeleteYou are no dame with a lame name Grace. You are a wonderful woman writer with words weighty and witty! ...and a beautiful name - Grace...
ReplyDeleteI love the forcefulness of the last two stanzas, but particularly this phrase: "My life is tapestry of songs." Tapestries are usually made of cloth and thread, so I love the uniqueness of making it of music instead.
ReplyDeleteA wonderful write Grace and I especially love 'My life is tapestry of songs, by choice' xxx
ReplyDeleteA song of many for a one, the way life is spun.
ReplyDeleteI think the term "invisible" by your friend referred to a time with young family members. I can identify with that a bit. I find myself at times sitting quietly while the conversation flows around me. Comes with age, I think. I greatly admire your ability to negotiate the intricacies of the sonnet!
ReplyDeleteYou are right Bev, it comes with age. He felt out of place by the younger crowd. Thank you.
DeleteYou are anything but invisible, Grace 💖 this is a stunning poem!!😊
ReplyDeleteLovely poem.
ReplyDeleteI love the resoluteness and the absolute authority in the last lines.
ReplyDeleteGreat comeback! Motivational words. We are what we make ourselves...
Have a great year!
Your title is quite open, Grace, (thank you for the story behind it) and could have meant any number of things, but the poem took me in an unexpected direction. This is a pensive terza rima, in which the repetition of the question ‘Am I...’ feels like a walk to discover an answer, and I’m walking along too.
ReplyDeleteI love the images of the ‘diminished tree in distance’ and the fallen leaf cut out of frame, and the internal rhyme of ‘dame with lame name’, which slows the line down, as if the speaker is preparing to ‘bellow brave exploits & loves’.
Most of all I love the defiance in the refusal to be invisible.
The madness of these poetic forms -- this sonnet in terza rima -- is getting everything to tock together -- metrically true with rhymes that surprise (or at least fit), finishing with a buttoning couplet that both summarizes the conceit and adds something to it. Yikes. If found the imagery of invisibility in the first 3 stanzas more impressive than the defiance of it in the fourth stanza and couplet, though the structure is really good there. (Excellent way to work the transition) Or maybe that's the point -- invisibility itself is worth singing--we just need to learn to, what, be the crystal cup that shattered as it rang (Rilke). I came away appreciating my extinction better. Whatever the case, noble attempt and worth revising deeper.
ReplyDeleteI like this form, wonderful rhythm. You've captured hope rising from melancholy. It's always there somewhere. (K)
ReplyDeleteI like the resolution in the last six lines and rejection of the phrase: "silenced by brighter light" And acceptance of this line: "My life is tapestry of songs, by choice".
ReplyDeleteI love the defiance!
ReplyDelete@ Grace
ReplyDeleteThis is a fun rhyme pattern (Rima), and you have had fun. The last word, stood out because it broke the pattern and meaning unclear to me.
The rest I followed.
I don't know how people do good rhyme-packed poems without some sense of being force (which I did too), but damn it is fun to try.
I had to look up chanteuse and the UK use of dame -- was thinking of the Japanese word "dame" which means bad or useless. Damn bilingual minds can be a curse.
While the story is great -- the rebelling against the push of nature into obscurity and the rhyme fun, the rhythm threw me a bit. But I am not a skilled reader.
Well done. This is the stanza that resonated with me.
ReplyDeleteNo, I refuse to be the invisible
Or silenced by brighter light, louder voice
I'm not just a chorus or syllable
A powerful poem, exceptionally well-done!
ReplyDeleteI guess one wonders at what point of time do you feel invisible to the world around you. I think everyone has something to offer.
ReplyDeleteI wonder about the growing rose?
Happy New Year Grace!
My life is tapestry of songs, by choice
ReplyDeleteWoven of seasons & storms, growing rose
Serves about the strength and courage to take them by the horns. It is good insistence for the ensuing year, Grace!
Hank
I love the placement of the volta which really stood out for me.. the "no I refuse" statements... the sense of becoming invisible is something I think happens... sometimes with age I have seen many people appreciate a smaller crowd instead of a larger gathering...
ReplyDeleteBeautiful sounds and imagery. Love the volta. There are times when one has to assert himself/herself. :-)
ReplyDeleteHappy Sunday, Grace.
~Imelda
There are several multiple-meaning words in this poem and after several readings, they stand out and reveal themselves. (Blows, rose)
ReplyDeleteThe repetition of the question followed by the answer and final proclamation is effective. The italics in the answer almost feels unnecessary to me - the words carry sufficient strength in themselves, but I suppose that is simply subjective.
"Am I the fallen leaf in snow-bleached night
ReplyDeleteSolitary figure, cut out of frame
Abandoned by time, dying out of sight"
I love that stanza, and the way you ended the sonnet. Powerful, lovely poem, Grace!
there are definitely two voices within the narration - the volta becomes apparent - and you've skillfully employed the elements and nature to capture time, life's seasons - then the sudden shift to a softer lenses, is fascinating, because the words flow more easily, sound less clipped and staccato, and yet, there isn't a soft and easy grace and walking off into the night here - the content becomes a further declaration, a proclamation of sense of self - in relation to oneself, first, and then the others; fascinating way you've worded this and let the scenes unfold - it's definitely a fresh perspective and the form, I think adds another dimension to it
ReplyDeleteI like the switch from questioning to determination--or perhaps proclamation. The final couplet is beautiful.
ReplyDelete(And coincidentally, I recently saw "Beautiful," the musical about Carole King--in the show, she leaves her cheating husband to go make her Tapestry album.) :)
Well said!
ReplyDeleteThe 'growing rose', while a wonderful, positive image, does come as a bit of a surprise. I think I would sacrifice syllable count to make it 'a growing rose'. I think that would flow better and have the reader go, 'Oh yes!' instead of feeling slightly jarred.
Even with friends, we often forget to look and listen closely. (K)
ReplyDelete