We who with songs beguile your pilgrimage / And swear that Beauty lives though lilies die, / We Poets of the proud old lineage / Who sing to find your hearts, we know not why ... (James Elroy Flecker)

17.11.18

Phantom


Phantom

She rose in the night
her fairytale was broken
she thought she would sit up and sing ... 
she thought the wind would take her voice
and throw it out over the ocean

but the pearlescent light of pre-dawn 
mocked her, neither one thing
nor the other – just like me, she thought
and dwindled 
far away from the everything that had been

but her story has not yet
reached an ending
and until she decides, chooses
an action a direction,
she must remain listless, ghost-pale

hovering on the outskirts of day
wondering at the restraints
which stop her utterance
and fade the sight from her eyes
as we, too, stop watching.


Sharing at Poets United's Poetry Pantry #428

23 comments:

  1. What an amazing poem, Rosemary. I love the opening, the song the wind might throw over the ocean...then the pearlescent pre-dawn, and the feeling of her dwindling.....wonderfully done!

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  2. Love "outskirts of day"... that is not night.. yet it is not day! Indecision!

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  3. The spirit of this poem is amazing — something so individualistic and powerful in it, which goes beyond any societal or human-crafted restraints. This story hasn't yet reached its end after all. The phantom image and metaphor provides a both inside-out and outside-in perspective of this reverie.

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  4. Ah the outskirts of day! Curiously I have been been bedevilled by waking up before dawn these last couple of days, frustrated that it is too early to get a cup of tea and too late to go back to sleep. Tea wins in the end!

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    1. So it should! (Though for me it would always be coffee.)

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  5. I suspect that many of us find our fairy tales broken too. The question is: What do we do with the shards of those tales? Will we remain listless and pale, like the character in your poem, or will we find a way to pick up the pieces of the tale and use some sort of kintsugi to construct a more enduring tale?

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  6. I guess sitting on the fence is do much like a ghostlike hovering existence. Nice images at play here

    Happy Sunday

    Much🖤love

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  7. This is beautifully poignant!💞I love the image of "the pearlescent light of pre-dawn" and resonate strongly with "but her story has not yet reached an ending and until she decides, chooses an action a direction"... who knows what the future beholds?💞

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  8. I love how you describe that moment at dawn, fairy tales broken, but still too early to leave... maybe the daylight will bring another fairy tale?

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  9. As I read this I felt myself the subject as I have been grappling with direction....feeling listless and restrained....really hit me deep.

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    1. I feel sure your story is not yet all told, either.

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  10. The thought of a broken fairytale made me sad, Rosemary, and that she has to remain ghost-pale 'hovering on the outskirts of day'.

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  11. It is sad when the fairy tale ends and we are left with fragmented parts of reality. I loved this one Rosemary. I can feel each word.

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  12. This is a wistful piece--that sense of being stuck just before the story begins feels like a fairy tale peeking around the corner

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  13. A beautifully imaged, analogy of what it feels like to find oneself - unexpectedly - at a crossroads … What direction do we choose to go in, when the fairy tale is broken? Or do we succumb to inertia? Fortunately, the story has not yet reached an ending. Well, it doesn't, does it … until it does. Wonderful writing in this.

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  14. Not making a choice, especially when everyone else has, can leave a soul rather translucent indeed. We can't be part of the world without participating in it. As the poem suggest in the end, if we stop making our presence known, the world will forget.

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  15. We do not reach the end of our story until the end comes. Who knows what awaits us until that time. Life has a habit of surprising us and not always nicely. I never really appreciated that no news was good news before. Now I treasure any day which is uneventful in my life.

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  16. I had to laugh at the wind taking her voice and throwing it over the ocean.

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  17. Well done! A wonderful reading for me.
    ZQ

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  18. Seems you and I were on the same wavelength, Rosemary, as far as making decisions is concerned! Haven't we all slipped and fallen in our own personal fairy tales at some point in the story of our life? Somehow, I feel that expecting this to happen, makes it easier to accept it when it does; it's reality. Lovely read.

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  19. She will remain a phantom until she decides

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