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Keeper of the swans

A quiet early milkman stacked chaos on my sills.
Keyholder, only you know the warm place -
miser of my perpetual summer mood.
Keeper of the swans,
our hearts are folded,
it takes two to make a full frame.
This line of sight lays bait for thought,
and over the murksome mirror
comes a graceful brute,
to beak my dusky face.
I lose my light
to feather-bellied ripples.
I truly wish to be feminised,
your chapped fingers startle my entire thrill,
but there's soot over me,
and the finest chimney-sweep I ever did see
is only to be had in a cloud of something I do not breathe,
and cannot precipitate.
At cusp of frost and beyond,
another body is valuable.
I share the occasional bed
with barely loveable impostors,
my nose turning like a cat's flinch at lemon.
One blue day,
I noticed I had lost the moon -
It had spilt into the morning,
its large clean flesh in a billowed phase.
Lost for words and their recipients,
I played my tea-cup, my spoon,
a sullen monotone.
These days, I smoke tirelessly,
as if I mean to feed the fog.
As if my grave is situated
in a paradise for bones.

15 Jan 07

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Id very much appreciate comments on this poem if you folks have any..?
Thanks, Will.
 — sisotowbel

I love your title!!! The poem is a little strange. Can't really make sense of it. I think it deserves a re-read.
 — JustineCH

Firstly, great poem...I just wanted to tell you that upfront. "A quiet early milkman stacked "chaos" on my sills." I would say that this is a little over dramatic, for what is "chaos?" Is it because the milk has spoiled?

And another line that tripped me up was the line about "two hearts are needed to make a full frame." I don't understand this image here...which really is probably a fault of mine...not yours. Care to explain this one?

And this may be just me, but this to me seems to be about someone who sleeps with multiple people. The milkman maybe, the swansherd, and the chimney sweep. And maybe even the landlord (the keyholder.)

Talk about poetic:  lines13-23 are my favorite, yet the only line I'd suggest at altering would be line 16. "the finest chimney sweep I ever did see" seemed to ruin the seemingly serious mood.

Line 27--"it's large clean flesh in a billowed phase" love it. Even if you didn't mean to, the use of flesh seemed to refer back to how the person maybe sleeps with anybody.  

Lines 31-32 are perfect. Just great. I don't know if I've heard that before, but it's a great two lines.

This is overall a great piece, and people soon I'm sure will comment it more. It's a great poem indeed. It seems so peaceful with a grave background to it. 10/10
 — MrChris

this is beautiful. kind of reminds me of joanna newsom, the songwriter.
 — sarahjoie

MrChris, thanks so much for the comments - I will explain your queries -

Firstly, there was no milkman - I woke up early, the burner had gone out, and the snow had stacked itselfup my windows which were slanted.

Our hearts are folded, it takes two to make a full frame refers to courting swans, which make the shape of a loveheart when beaking each other - the poem is an unrequited love poem, and i felt like half a heart.

I can see how it may appear that the writer is promiscuous, and I suppose that is mildly true, in that in this period of infatuation, I did sleep with two people that weren't him. I couldn't have him, they had to do. The poem was written in one sitting but was an amalgamation of edited diary entries from the preceding three months, which I hope explains for you the multiple incarnations of his character.

I will ponder over your suggestion i change line 16. I think you're right but the line means something to me.

Its so interesting to know what readers read into ones poetry. Thanks for taking the time to write all that, I hope I haven't destroyed your appreciation of it - you're welcome to attach your own meanings.

Will x
 — sisotowbel

Sarahjoie, what a lovely comment, thanks!
She's a genius, I am not.
 — sisotowbel

i will have to check out your music on myspace, i just friended you.  I love lines 29-30 in this poem.

p.s. i can see your t.s. eliot influence. lovely.
 — sarahjoie

There is a strong voice here but i'm not sure what you are trying to do. Just when i think there is meat on the bone you drift off into ungrounded abstractions
Enjoyed though, thanks for the read.
 — unknown