…for a strange poem that wants to be beautiful

These are notes for a strange poem that wants to be beautiful.
It starts, you will not be surprised to learn, with the full moon
behind broken backlit clouds, shining through in a pattern
that reminds me of the Crab Nebula, words you will now
Google Image Search, and in the process you will learn
it is made of stardust, remnants of a supernova explosion
whose light reached Japan in 1054 A.D., and now we are thinking
of your Samurai poem and wondering if stardust is made of fragments
of old poems that have echoed across space since the Big Bang.
What’s the difference between naked and nekkid? Nekkid, you say,
is fixin’ for trouble. What’s the difference between violin and fiddle?
Fiddle, I say, smells like beer. My hand is on your damp back
as we  push through the crowd to the dance floor. The moon
is high above the clouds, a single pearl on the black velvet sky.
Three crows were on the road this morning, signifying what?


About Ray Sharp

Father, poet, triathlete, local public health planner
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12 Responses to …for a strange poem that wants to be beautiful

  1. This “strange poem” is full of wonderful and mysterious things…stars, nebula, fiddles, crows. What makes it a fiddle is the one who plays it. I play but don’t smell of beer…strange.

    • Ray Sharp says:

      It is certainly possible. So you are a fiddle player? That is wonderful.

      • Yes, I do play just for fun. I like Scottish, Irish, Appalachian tunes, and sea music. Do you play?

      • Ray Sharp says:

        very badly, but I have friends who play well

      • Is there such thing as bad fiddling? That is fantastic that you know people who play. Folk music is passed on in an organic way. That is why I like it. Really enjoying your poetry.

      • Ray Sharp says:

        Thank you. Yes, I know a lot of folks who play. Old-time music they call it in the states. dance tunes, fiddle tunes. Same tunes that crossed the Atlantic, the old songs.

      • That’s the good stuff. Through the tunes you can feel the stories. The fiddlers, depending on where the tunes are from, play with an accent. When I worked at Mystic Seaport I collected women’s worksongs from around the world. Some haunting lullabies…so good. I am not trying to flatter. I look for poetry with the same depth. Yes, there is the mechanics, but it is more than that…like a stone skipping over the surface of a pond. You see the ripples appear to disappear, but they are really reverberating into the depths. How’s that?

  2. Ray Sharp says:

    Yes, the depths, opacity, reflections of sky

  3. mrsorenson says:

    Ray, you present me here with a supreme example of parts being more accurate, more hungry, more necessary than any sort of finishing or finished whole. Merci for the example and motivation.

  4. naomi says:

    ‘Three crows on the road, signifying what?’ I love that line. I also often use Google image search when looking for inspiration… haha

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