Poetry Forum

Convolvulus


What battlements, what barbican, what bold
moat and portcullis hope to stand beneath
this force that wells up from the blasted soil?
The ground we walk on is accursed, and all
our prayers have brought us only plodding death.
We once were young and now we have grown old –

that vital principle a man cannot
dispense with gutters like a flame in us,
our children are departed. In the bleak
and airless midnight, others sleep. We wake
and we shed tears. As the convolvulus
in its enlacement binds things to a spot,

thus, we are bound. We cannot leave this place.
The sky has lost its interest. And out
beyond the eye’s reach, there are other lands
that sow and harvest. Nothing here withstands
the salt we’ve sown. And so, to do without –
we do that. We look midnight in the face.


Edited:
or morning glory binds things to a spot

Yes, stare it out John. Great title. 'enjoyed', especially the castle diction, though wasn't sure why you added 'or morning glory'.

Bw

Phil

Thanks, Phil! I enjoyed portcullis and barbican as well!

You are quite right about morning glory. It's a synonym, but really doesn't add to the tone! Duly edited with thanks.

Cheers,
John

Gosh, John. This is dramatic stuff. Did this all come from your contemplation of convolvulus, or is there a back-story here?

Or - and this has just occurred to me - is it an insomnia poem? I seem to recall you remember mentioning insomnia, fleetingly, in some other thread. Although I'm not sure that would be consistent with the almost Shakespearean diction of S1, which I quite like, while wondering whether the volume is turned up a bit too high.

The more I think about it, the more I think it's about insomnia, but insomnia as a monstrous foe (hobgoblin or foul fiend). That's an interesting take on it.

Cheers

David

Hi David,

Ah yes, the last line! I think your reading is splendid and more interesting than my creation story, which is that I started with convolvulus and worked myself up into a lather. It all feels just a bit Coleridgian to me, a bit frenetic. But perhaps it works.
Bad internet these two days, thus little posting.

Cheers,
John

As a Newby to the forum reread through a few times I like it so heres my interitpation.
the way its written i can see :-

liked the start it is a good opener as it says you aint gonna stop nature,
and time moves on regardless even a fortress will succumb to time and nature.

i read it as Death was the main subject as we live and die time and nature continued,
and the insomnia part came from the grief of loss but as the plants grow and wind round, through, binding us the grief gets less but love remains.

thank for this poem found i had to read it many times but i was able to find a translation for me.

think morning glory was confusing too as convolvulus gave the imagery needed

Hi Mharr,

And welcome!

I agree, you ain't gonna stop nature, exactly as you say, and that really is the subject of the opening few lines. Death comes to all living things, whatever we build to try to keep it out. But then, as you say, it may be that love remains when everything else is gone. That is a good thought and i think a true one. The insomnia bit is I think mostly there i nthe final sentence, about looking midnight in the face - a pretty good defiinition of insomnia - but it is possible to read that back through the whole poem, which I think is kind of fun to do.

Cheers,
John

Good question John now i'm gonna go and look back.

i see good poets on here makes me nervous about posting up what i've done so far lol but i will poetry is like paintings, sculptures should be shared.

Hi Micheal,

I think there's something vbery important to us as humans about creating and sharing art. Five-year-olds do it constantly - they find joy and meaning in it - and it's very sad that we so often stop as we get older. So, I agree with you. It's good to write and share what we write, just as it is to paint or to sing.

Cheers,
John