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Forgive me, my cocoon of winter months and black cloth
have hidden me from the tempting sweetness
I have flown from lamp to lamp, along London
my figure twisting with the knots in the wrought iron madness

A madness still mourning a long dead Prince
and my spirit weeping with the colour that remains hidden
flowing like the dead waters, dragging life into the depths
a carriage towards Hades, with all that have fallen

Forgive me, I shed my bland cloth
for the cloth of my unburdened summer linen
I am reborn from being a winter moth
and have returned to what is golden


------
Ask not what you can do to poetry, but what poetry can do to you.


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Comments

The following comments are for "Forgive Me"
by Londongrey

Although...
...the deeper meaning of this piece has yet to find me, I find myself satisfied in the imagery presented and the legion of questions that riddle my mind.

( Posted by: Magnitus [Member] On: October 22, 2004 )

Elegant
I feel the mood of the outdoors in this offering. Tense tranquility.

L

( Posted by: GibsonGirl [Member] On: October 22, 2004 )

forgive
Your use of flowing imagery is very nicely placed. I enjoyed this piece. Very etheral.

( Posted by: poesandpoetry [Member] On: October 22, 2004 )

Londongrey
I have read and reread this many number of times and this last time I donít know if Iíve already gotten what it meant. Let me try:

Here, the poet is apologizing for having shifted from his mourning for a loved one (a person, a place or a motherland?) to rejoicing for a newfound freedom. The poem concentrated more though to the period of madness and darkness rather than when itís already Ďgoldení. There is a tiny element of guilt upon leaving a darker day to most people, I agree, I know this based on experience especially when the change is to something so fine and better or less deserved.

The images:

Cocoon and black/bland cloth, as shrouds of the olden days that are being discarded are a pertinent image.

Knots in the wrought iron madness, make me visualize a butterfly-shaped brooch.

Carriage towards Hades, a sudden allusion to the Greek underworld while this poem is very much English has an appeal to me.

Unburdened summer linen, a brand new cloth to wear, light and pure.

The winter moth, its flight from lamp to lamp has an everlasting impression on me. You did not mention butterfly, but thatís what I think the moth has become at the end of this piece. How in reality a moth doesnít really change into a butterfly was somehow permitted here, a reward granted to a little moth for having suffered great mourning in the past.

( Posted by: peterpaulino [Member] On: October 23, 2004 )

Peter and everyone..
Peter your analysis is spot on, this poem is intended to be interpreted how each individual reads it.

Thanks to everyone who has commented, I really enjoyed writing it.

Peter, the wrought iron madness is all of the black gates and wrought iron fences that typifie Vicotiran London afer Prince Albert died and Victoria went into mourning, all of them used to be bright colour but were painted black to mourn the Royal loss.

Alex :-)

( Posted by: londongrey [Member] On: October 29, 2004 )

Alex I am in awe,
I am with Windchime on this. My absolute favorite of yours.

I want more of this!!!

Darlene

( Posted by: Dareva [Member] On: October 31, 2004 )





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