Tomorrow

[Bleeding_Soul]

Another of my musings




The resplendent glimpse of a day unborn,
The redolence of an unblossomed flower,
The distant presage of yet another morn,
The stamp of Time’s ruthless power.
The comely promise of an unpossessed treasure,
The blissful sounds of triumphant whispers.
The coy enticement of impending leisure,
The light rhythm of victory’s caper.

Beyond the gossamer barrier that veils
Time of now from time to come,
There lie the unseen esoteric trails
That men must follow sans a mutter.
Worshipped, dreaded, awaited, much sought,
Tomorrow holds our thoughts hostage.
Today we spend making much of naught,
Wallowing in self-inflicted emotional carnage.

The procrastinator’s refuge,
The soothsayer’s delight,
Fresh troubles pour in a vicious deluge.
As dawn is born of dark midnight,
No respite within the open portal,
No end in sight to yesterday’s sorrow.
Unconquered , lives on the devious immortal-
Tomorrow will forever be, yet another, tomorrow.

[H0LD0Nthere]

I am so pleased to be the first to comment on this poem. It is a little hard to get into, but I find myself liking it more and more as I re-read it.

On the first reading, you really caught my attention with the middle stanza, denying us the rhyme we expected with "come/mutter." That made me sit up and take notice. "Wow, this poem holds some surprises! I had better pay attention." Looking over the poem, I see that the lines I just quoted are the ONLY nonrhyming ones in the poem. That is so fitting, because in those lines you are talking about the trails being unseen, and the fact that we have no choice but to follow them ... i.e., we do not know what is coming, and we do not really know what we are doing as we go there. No rhyme.

Then the line right after that is terrific - "Worshipped, dreaded, awaited, much sought" ... yes. We all know the feeling!

I would love to know, was this no-rhyme effect deliberate and planned, or did it just come to you in a rush of inspiration, only to be noticed later?

I was a little worried at the beginning of the poem because most of the imagines in your first stanza are so hopeful and kind of Pollyanna. I thought it might be a sappy kind of poem. But it takes a much darker turn beginning at "mutter," and the last stanza continues to reflect the mercilessness of tomorrow, and also the seemingly capricious, sovereign nature of the "devious immortal."

[Bleeding_Soul]

Holdonthere....u hav a gud eye! I generally write in a constant flow, and while I always proofread my short stories, I never make major changes to my poetry (ah, quirks!). I correct spellings, punctuation, but never mess with the words I have penned down. So, even when I wrote this, I came up with several alternatives to maintain the rhythm. However, I chose to give with the original

I myself find this poem a bit....wordy? verbose? I do not know why this happened. But I recall seeing vivid images flowing through my mind and they needed to be described in a very distinct, powerful manner. Again, I briefly considered changing some words, but I could not violate my code of conduct

The first stanza signifies "hope and dreams". The second alludes to a realization, that "anything can happen" and it may not be quite what we are looking for. The third para talks about anxiety and apprehension, just before "tomorrow" actually materializes. Also, there is the hard fact that, while we often console ourselves that things will be better the next day, "tomorrow" brings more troubles of its own, thereby ensuring that we are constantly waiting for another day to dawn and bring the changes that we desire.

By the way, this poem was inspired by two things-
1. My own worries during a very vicious period of trial. This gave me the idea that the future was like a living monster, immortal and ruthless.
2. To divert my mind, I switched on the telly, and some channel was showing James Bond's "tomorrow never dies". Thus was born a grudging tribute to the eternal, elusive, enchanting and excruciating tomorrow!

[H0LD0Nthere]

Well, after hearing your explanations, I like the poem even better. The future can indeed seem like a vicious monster at times. I hope that your trial has let up on you a bit.

Have you ever read We Grow Accustomed to the Dark, by Emily Dickinson? She uses the same move of setting you up to expect a rhyme and then not giving it to you, and it works well with the theme of adjusting to reality, just as it does in this poem.

[Bleeding_Soul]

We Grow Accustomed to the Dark is a very deep and passionate poem. It may lack rhyme, but it paints such a beautiful picture! Its final para is so powerful- a suggestion that a change in one's perceptions can make all the difference between darkness and light.

[Nathrad Sheare]

This one was pretty good, Bleeding_Soul for having not been edited before publishing. I think my favorite poem of yours is Tears. I went onto that site you posted and read all the recent poems. The artwork you put up to illustrate the mood of some I was very pleased with, too. Very nice. I look forward to seeing more!

[Bleeding_Soul]

thanks a lot Nathrad....

[Nathrad Sheare]

I'm reading a tone of apprehension in that "..." Believe me, I enjoyed your poetry. I encourage anyone who has it in their soul to write as much poetry as possible. As its creators we must "Rage against the dying of the light!" Never let the art of poetry fade to grey! Never let your inner passion wither!

[Bleeding_Soul]

You really are a person of depth. Do you write? I would love to read something of yours!

[Nathrad Sheare]

I do write, actually. I've written tons of poetry and am in the middle of a short story right now. I love words... I can't get enough of them. I listen to the way their music plays on a page and I melt... Like butter in a microwave oven... Or a witch in soapy water... I think that if I couldn't write I'd explode! I have a few poems posted on my forum, "I Have a Few Poems of My Own." I'll be posting more soon on there. I always edit extensively. though the ones I have up I haven't messed with too much. You can check them out.