Back in college, during my 19th century Russian literature course (which in fact extended into the early 20th century), we studied the Russian symbolists. Their writing was filled with a lot of irrationalism and mysticism. You can read more about it here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Russian_symbolism, though it doesn't really show you any of the poetry.
I wanted to write a poem in the same vain - irrational, colorful, and maybe a bit somber, among other things (though I don't have a full listing of my exact intentions at the time, so part of my understanding of my drive to do this was lost). I feel sad that I have forgotten more about them than I remember, but I have this poem as a memory of it. However, the following is the resultant poem. The intent was to show a world that could have been that faded, using simple colors to portray the loss of imagination and whimsy.
Blue Grass & Green Clouds
The grass' first blue
waned and died in the end.
Twas the bravest of hues,
but time could not lend
his breath to this mode,
as the woman in shroud
caused all feel forbode
for blue grass and green clouds.
The deep purple lake
and the brilliant gold sky
were left blue in her wake,
so the clouds raised a cry.
But the cry came too late,
and the brave colors died
as they met the cruel fate
which none could abide.
by Rich Bailey - October 1996
Even though this poem is a bit sad, I can still see blue hues in grass, gold in the sky, and purple lakes when the time is just right.... :)
I wanted to write a poem in the same vain - irrational, colorful, and maybe a bit somber, among other things (though I don't have a full listing of my exact intentions at the time, so part of my understanding of my drive to do this was lost). I feel sad that I have forgotten more about them than I remember, but I have this poem as a memory of it. However, the following is the resultant poem. The intent was to show a world that could have been that faded, using simple colors to portray the loss of imagination and whimsy.
Blue Grass & Green Clouds
The grass' first blue
waned and died in the end.
Twas the bravest of hues,
but time could not lend
his breath to this mode,
as the woman in shroud
caused all feel forbode
for blue grass and green clouds.
The deep purple lake
and the brilliant gold sky
were left blue in her wake,
so the clouds raised a cry.
But the cry came too late,
and the brave colors died
as they met the cruel fate
which none could abide.
by Rich Bailey - October 1996
Even though this poem is a bit sad, I can still see blue hues in grass, gold in the sky, and purple lakes when the time is just right.... :)
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