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God's Country
The creek of rubber
pressing against wet glass;
train track turbulence
from suspension over tarmac;
ubiquitous cries
of ignitions shifting in the cold:
all these things can shake the mind
from the solitude of journey,
a broken peace speeding down motorways,
with Ireland's countryside
book-ending car windows,
surrounding express buses
with the metaphysics of greenery:
the farm animal's isolation,
verdant fields seemingly barren
through urban eyes, and then
an explosion of forest,
leaven mountain jutting out
from hillside moss;
that great sense of distance
invading the spirits,
where land is void of landmark,
towns and cities swept away
by rural splendour
the road never discovering
the next stop.
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Comment by: jonny - 2007-04-24 23:39
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| Short but sweet, quite the visceral wallop. Poetry is so great in that it may convey so much in so little. This definitley tells a lot at once, quick and unflinching. I feel like a city boy a train here, maybe my interpretations way off here? Ha. I like quite a bit. I read some f your other pieces but this is the one that grabbed me, i'll go back and read the other stuff again. |
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I can so visualise this poem, Colin, from myriad trips away from & back to the city. Especially love "with Irelandâ??s countryside /
book-ending car windows". Reads very well: you write poetry, I always end up writing prose in short lines. Ah well. |
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| I like the 'creek of rubber'. I did stop for a second and wonder if it was a spelling mistake ('creak') but then saw it as a window wiper running across the window - a river on a map, creaking with that odd noise rubber on wet glass makes. I wasn't sure if 'pressing' works at first, but, actually, if you are referring to different dimensions of 'rubber', it's quietly amusing.. The rest of the verse is great. I really like 'train track turbulence/from suspension over tarmac'. I like the rhythmic investment in the word 'journey', imbuing it with mystery, with a mythic status. 'Book-ending car windows' is brilliant. But I am not sure what the word 'metaphysics' is doing in there around 'greenery' - no! (for me). I don't like 'verdant' either. It is SO last century. But the amazing sweep of movement in this verse, visually spanning fast from solitary animal then quickly across fields into the forest suddenly and almost face into the moss is fantastic, seen always 'through urban eyes'. The final verse ends well, but I don't like 'that great sense of distance' nor 'rural splendour' (too mundane for you, unless ironically echoing one of the earlier nature poets). The two lines 'where land is void of landmark,/towns and cities swept away' are very effective, though. I think this is an excellent poem in the making. |
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"leaven mountain jutting out
from hillside moss;"
I had an opposite experience recently driving from the coastal mountains of california to the desert of arizona. After a while you begin to forget what green IS. |
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| Thanks everyone for your comments and suggestions, I'm made a few amendments. The creek of rubber refers to a windscreen wiper by the way! |
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