Survivors

Survivors

Tuesday, May 28, 2013

On Rereading My Old Poems


© Steve King
All rights reserved


I thought any pathway back
should brook no mystery.
Yet the way to origins—
what I was, and what I said and did,
and what I thought,
and how I knew to do,
and who it was that struck those marks
all over the old sheets—
there is now only this:
I recall how each long-finished line
did onetime beckon
from its place of puzzlement,
while I mused and sought to see a way
to bring reluctant shadows full alive,
apart from all the other words,
shining within their own delights,
animate, robust to heart and mind,
and sprung of an enchanting genesis.

Waiting for each old world to unfold,
it is the dawning sense
of the obvious that surprises me so:
at  every turn an old familiar
given just another form,
while only in some strictest sense
is anything reborn.
Each old stroke dislodges to a partial light
a rude and rediscovered gem,
the best, largely obscure:
where once I knew each crowning glow,
now only sometimes do these yield
reflection of my will.

I must see each book finally closed,
each chapter sealed—
all the times consigned to right repose.

And then may new familiars rise instead,
so I may break off dreaming on the dead.

14 comments:

  1. I sometimes feel fortunate that my past output is quite finite and small, because it still haunts me, intruding phrases, ideas, and emotions well-worn and previously used. Sometimes that serves, but often, it is tiresome and difficult. You hit on the positives and negatives of who and what we were vis a vis who we've become well here, and I think your last two lines offer hope as well as resolution. (Leonard Cohen has a pertinent reflection perhaps, from his album 'Old Ideas' "...I thought the past would last me/but the darkness got that, too...") What isn't growing, is dying.

    ReplyDelete
  2. thank goodness for new familiars eh...in some sense it is a bit weird going back over old poems...there are some that intimidate me with who i was...and some i wonder where they came from....places i have moved beyond....like sand it slips through our fingers...and is gone...and looking back is not easy..

    ReplyDelete
  3. Surprise is also an element in these rereadings, don't you find?
    At oneself, I mean.
    As if one is getting to know a new person.

    ReplyDelete
  4. lovely tribute, as I see it, to the past of words and influences. your final couplet brings a bright finish to this piece.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Nice, Steve. I go back to read some old poetry and I remember my younger self and how I felt. Sometimes it's humbling other times it leaves me sad of the events at the time that inspired me to write those poem. In the end it's all a part of the journey. I enjoyed your capture.

    ReplyDelete
  6. So many images and unending symbolism are revealed in this poem. It seems one could read it at various intervals and find different messages revealed to them.

    ReplyDelete
  7. This poem truly speaks to me as it recalls the process of discovery and rediscovery--two very different things as we are not whom we were. I especially like your word play on the materials of writing: the event, the paper, the line, etc. Here is my favorite bit:
    "Waiting for each old word to unfold,
    it is the dawning sense
    of the obvious that surprises so:
    at every turn an old familiar
    given just another form,
    while only in some strictest sense
    is anything reborn"

    ReplyDelete
  8. Beautiful imagery here--how they haunt and how the memory of where they came from can spark so much

    Here are my favorite lines

    Waiting for each old word to unfold,
    it is the dawning sense
    of the obvious that surprises so:
    at every turn an old familiar
    given just another form,
    while only in some strictest sense
    is anything reborn.

    ReplyDelete
  9. I find it sometimes comforting to review my past writings...feeling the same or having grown into something else...more of me...this is a delicately drawn and sensitive look at the self that was and is...a beautiful write:) xo

    ReplyDelete
  10. I ditto Audrey and Susan above, I too loved those lines. But I also loved the last two:

    "And then may new familiars rise instead,
    so I may break off dreaming on the dead."

    "New familiars," kind of an oxymoron that makes sense. We are always reaching for that unique turn of the phrase, the perfect expression. Beautifully penned, Steve. I always enjoy your lovely writing!!

    ReplyDelete
  11. Your words resonated with me Steve ~ I look back at my writing and I wonder what was I thinking ~ It's looking at another me, ha ~ Your words are always thoughtful and reflective, thank you ~

    ReplyDelete
  12. Interesting to think about reading one's old poetry. Actually I generally find I can still identify with my poems of the past....they put me right back into that old mind frame and give me insight into who I was and who I (in actuality) still am. It amazes me sometimes how little I HAVE changed over the years.....

    ReplyDelete
  13. Beautifully crafted piece, Steve.

    ReplyDelete
  14. A depth of words..... majestic minutia, an incredible piece on self-evaluation... A poet's poem, indeed.

    ReplyDelete