Steps

I stand stoking her
battle
for another
little
faltering step,
watching, waiting, wishing,
in breathless anticipation
to revel in her sweetest victory:
And as she slips and tumbles,
those flawless knees
falling away
in unaffected grace,
I am down on my own
and hugging her to my bosom,
smother an anguished cry
that is already dead-
my first glimpse
of a freshly minted will
to find her own path.

And clutching ten tiny fingers
I look into those pale black eyes
And imagine an unspoken whisper
“let me fall, pappa”.

—————————————
There is hope, yet.

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Posted on February 8, 2005, in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. 23 Comments.

  1. i am not that experienced or that mature to make comments, but could i make suggestions about structure ?

    • yes, please. I always have problems with structure.

      • a subconscious maxim of mine – economy should never be sacrificed at the cost of structure.

      • hmm…i don’t think that economy has anything to do with it, at least in my case. It all depends on the poem and the words chosen – sometimes economy serves the purpose, sometimes I prefer more description.

        But irrespective, I would like to improve structure. For instance, how would you have structured this poem? You can edit and change things a bit, if you want to.

      • i remember our talking about how i break and i said, i do it instinctively.

        when i write, i do not think.
        many people when i tell them this do not believe me, but that is how i write. i am not even constructing thoughts, something strikes or touches inexplainably, and the words are there.
        and that is why i have never sat down to write.

        i think you need to let go. when my friend was teaching me how to sketch she taught me an invaluable lesson, do not hold the pencil too tight, forget the aim.

      • I am afraid I can’t agree with you on this. It’s great that you can find the right words when you sit down to write almost instinctively.

        In my case, it works differently. The idea itself, and the first draft is always instinctive. However I have seen that my better poems are always the ones I have worked on harder. When I sat with the first draft, and looked for the right word, the better phrase. I don’t spend eterntiy on it, but yes, I do spend some time.

        Maybe you are right about structure though. I should probably let go, and not worry myself over it too much.

      • ya. thats why my verse is so un-verse like and tacky 🙂

      • but i will read it again
        and try.

      • people tell me the same often – about lack of structure. that my poems sound more like random words than proper poems. but when it comes it just comes and flows out. its not like you are making it up. more like ur just a tunnel and its passing through you … know what i mean? anyway, so when i try to edit them and fix them up they feel like they have lost some of their life

        i have a couple on my home page – edited and original side by side – and the diff shows glaringly obvious!

        ~Ricercar

  2. words are not required to praise these verses. i simply read them, enjoy them and applaud.

  3. “let me fall, pappa”
    Ah, good one!

  4. in breathless anticipation
    to revel in her sweetest victory:
    And as she slips and tumbles,
    those flawless knees
    falling away
    in unaffected grace,
    I am down on my own

    🙂 I could picture this . . .

  5. Thanks, revived lotsa memories 🙂

  6. very very beautiful.

    one question – what does pale black eyes mean? imagine if you bcame a famous poet and many years later they were teaching this in a class … and imagine the teacher turning back from the blackboard and saying “now who can tell me what the poet meant by ‘the pale black eyes'”

    😉

    ~Ricercar

  7. A really really sweet poem. Keep writing Arun.

  8. I keep my word monsignor, I know I have another to keep

    I stand stoking
    Her battle
    for another
    little faltering
    Step,
    Watching, waiting, wishing, in
    Breathless
    Anticipation to revel
    In her sweetest victory:
    And as she slips and tumbles,
    Those flawless knees
    Falling away
    In unaffected grace,
    I am down
    On my own
    Hugging her to my bosom,
    Smothering an anguished cry
    Already dead-
    My first glimpse of
    A freshly minted will
    Finding
    Its own path.

    And clutching ten tiny fingers
    I look into those pale black eyes
    And imagine an unspoken whisper
    “let me fall, pappa”.

    • Re: I keep my word monsignor, I know I have another to keep

      Thanks! I like some of the changes, some of it I don’t. Generally, I don’t dig ending lines with prepositions, but I will chew on that.

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