Some Live (Poem for Open Link Night)

Some live through obstacles and rise again.

Some hanker after time.

Some allow others to tell them differently.

Some move ahead. Alone. Dazed.

 

Every life pales when death springs its trap,

Fresh strike of wasting, our striving, your ruckus,

We remain strangers in our little caves.

 

What am I but a tourist, you hard-working neighbour,

You fearful host, your drawbridge, your fortress, sanctum nigh.

What image do we leave to linger?

Gather, scatter all the more.

It’s the first Open Link Night of 2016 over at dVerse Poets Pub, and, although I thought I wouldn’t have time to write a poem, I found a draft of one in my drawer. Had to celebrate the New Year and the reopening of the pub somehow!

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24 thoughts on “Some Live (Poem for Open Link Night)”

  1. Hiya Marina, It’s been a while and thanks so much for this affirmation.. Yes indeed : “Gather, scatter all the more…”

  2. Each stanza brings out a different perspective on life and death ~ This line specially struck me:

    Every life pales when death springs its trap,

    Happy New Year ~

  3. What a thoughtful commentary on life and death, Marina Sofia. You really explore it effectively. I’m especially drawn to the way you look at differently people seem to go through life. Lots to think about here.

  4. Grace always picks out my favorite lines (great minds & all that jazz). I liked the line /we remain strangers in our little cave/. As I inhabit the winter of my own life, I tend to think more about what lies beyond & within; that death is merely a doorway, a transition; that the powerful entity that each of us is constituted with/by continues–& the wisdom from our past lives continues to accrue. Pollyanna, or wishful dreaming perhaps, but it helps me to deal with this dysfunctional husk that is my body; like Rumi extolls, we are not a body who has a soul, rather we are a soul who has a body.

    1. That’s an interesting (and slightly unexpected) way of looking at it – I was thinking more of the barriers between people, how we allow rumour and misunderstandings and prejudices to cloud our perceptions and keep us within our narrow caves.

  5. A lot of insight here. Recent discussions with friends I’ve had about how we can’t quite shake the imprint from our earliest ancestors – fear of the unknown, distrust of others, the appeal and confusion/repulsion by those who are different or unique. Yet probably from that time, we sensed that uniqueness and its loss at death. Not only close friends, tribal members and mostly immediate family but the loss of life – plant and animal as well. You capture it here in concise stanzas very well. Thank you for your notes at my place.

    1. Caution as survival – certainly we see that in the animal kingdom as well. Am fascinated by the extremes: the over-cautious and those wildly open to risk and adventure, wonder how such different responses came about…

  6. Much mono no aware in this – and how we put up those barriers. We’ve been living on this small street for 14 years. Of the nine families, I only know the names of two although I know them by sight – like “tourists” for sure. I don’t treasure things, but I do treasure my solitude after years of being so public. But this poem tells me I need to be more….social. Happy New Year to you.

    1. Far be it from me to preach sociability – I am treasuring more and more my solitude nowadays… I was just fascinated by the very different responses to the transience of life – from reckless to over-cautious, from solitary to convivial…

  7. SMiLes.. some folks wonder
    why i dance to the tune trail
    of 4669 miles everywhere
    i go in public now for
    28 months.. little
    do they then
    know now.. before
    i live iN concrete
    boxes.. the most
    difficult
    coffins
    are
    part of life..
    So i live.. i live
    my mark
    is
    Live..
    and sure there
    is also LITERALLY
    11 million words
    since 2010..
    but whose
    counting..
    i’m living
    that’s
    ALL…
    At one point in life
    work is life.. dead..
    now liFe
    iS
    work..
    aLive..:)

  8. Some live through obstacles and rise again.
    Some hanker after time.
    Some allow others to tell them differently.

    There have to be some feelings of security and pride in facing life. One has to make up one’s mind without influence from others

    Hank

  9. Yes — the living streams all around us, in that way we’re a rock, an island, taking in what we can. A witness. And as that witness to magnitude, what can we say? “Gather. Scatter all the more.” Wonderful.

  10. love that very last line.

    i feel as if the message there-in is that we should gather more experiences, scatter more love. gather more things, give more of others. this is the only way to cheat death, in a way, is to live so largely that death cannot take that of which we’ve held onto inside us, or given others. 🙂

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