Today’s Throwback Friday poem is a rewrite of a piece original called “Living On a Knife Edge”(Feb 2019). This poem was one of two, that I submitted to be published in March 2020 , but the other poem was accepted ahead of this piece, and here today I have again revised the 2020 poem.
Living On a Wooden Bridge (Revised)
Fire, fire, there’s raging fires
I need help to stamp out the flames
Burning down this old timber bridge
A traveler’s last causeway to the edge
Carrying today’s harsh realities
Spanning a lifetime of dreams and fantasies
Rain, rain, there’s a Noah’s flood
I need help to stop the cascading suds
Fill the sandbags with riverbed mud
Plug the leakages with woolly rugs
Ring out qualms and doubts
And accept the charity handouts
Warning, warning, there’s a heatwave
I need help to see through the shimmering haze
And peer into nature’s fiery atmosphere tonight
Where millions of her fireflies are alight
Forcing eyes to hear the sound of flashing delights
Gathering above the bridge to be the world’s new sunlight
“The Hosting Of The Shee” a poem by William B Yeats, sung by the Waterboys
The host is riding from Knocknarea And over the grave of Clooth-na-Bare Caoilte tossing his burning hair And Niamh calling: ‘Away, come away’ ‘Away, come away, away, away’.
The winds awaken, the leaves whirl round Our cheeks are pale, our hair is unbound Our breasts are heaving, our eyes are agleam Empty your heart of its mortal dream.
The host is riding from Knocknarea And over the grave of Clooth-na-Bare Caoilte tossing his burning hair And Niamh calling: ‘Away, come away’ ‘Away, come away, away, away’.
Our armsa-wave, our lips are apart And if anything gaze on our rushing band We come between him and the hope of his heart We come between him and the deed of his hand.
The host is riding from Knocknarea And over the grave of Clooth-na-Bare Caoilte tossing his burning hair And Niamh calling: ‘Away, come away’ ‘Away, come away, away, away, away, away…’.
Please Note: All attached Photos presented in this article were taken by Derrick Knight, and he has kindly allowed me reproduce them here on my poetry site. You may visit his wonderful article, and site by clicking on this link >> https://derrickjknight.com/2023/10/02/moons-for-denzil/
Today’s poem “Untethered”, is also an uncaptured piece that did not make the final list for the new book “Until Eyes Hear Sound”… hmmm … and I always like to get away in my “Itmims” spacecraft …
Untethered
With my back against the setting sun
I will fly toward a placid place, not yet overrun
Where the ground is not made of buried heads and limbs
I went to the Geelong Writers monthly social meeting at the Box Office Cafe this evening … I am back home, It’s 10.30pm, I’m tired, my computer is “duck muck” again, so I thought I would a reblog of this ‘appropriate’ poem before I hit the sack
Today I am presenting another poem that will be appearing in my new book “UntilEyes Hear Sound”. I wrote ‘Wonderment Rings True’ in September 2020, and the poem will be the opening piece in the Fantasy Section, ofChapter 9. Humour, Fantasy, Faeries, and Weird.
I am ecstatic that my poem “Lines To Nowhere”, has been accepted and published in Spillwords Magazine today, and I am very grateful to the editor Dagmara for selecting my piece … Please go over and visit my poem at Spillwords and if you wish, leave a 💗 for my article, by clicking on this link >>
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 