Dave Martsolf Poet Blank verse

A Poem From 1966

Days above morning, flying leaves leaving
     Out crimson’s crisp echo before the sharp blast.
Out crimson’s crisp echo
    I flying leaves leavings, watch days above morning
				will sharp winds ride?
In this calm serene
      half-a-world away         unseen
	high and high gasping the highest col raking
	in final pierced rays of a cold sun’s begone
	on grays of fierce snow crystal
	crystal quiet alone
	caused shattered collapses of ice-tons descending
	is there a noise if no one can hear?

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Tasha Taylor April 29, 2015 at 8:58 PM I love the formatting of your poem! Super unique! Welcome to poetry btw! I can't wait to read more of your work here! :) <3 Tash Dave Martsolf April 30, 2015 at 8:12 AM Hi Tash, Thanks for liking the format. To me it is like forcing a breath so that it helps set the irregular cadence that goes along with the words, phrases, and thought patterns. It is easy to do with music, but tougher with words. In my mind poems should be read like great dramatic Shakespearean soliloquies. Thanks again! Dave

Val Brooklyn Rogers Blk Panther April 29, 2015 at 5:28 PM Hello Dave. I dig your poem. Superb. 1966 year of my birth. Good luck on PoetrySoup. VB Rogers Dave Martsolf April 30, 2015 at 8:08 AM Thanks, VB. I have some other old stuff that I hope is worthy. In a while I hope to pick up the pen again and see what comes out of this old being. Cheers, Dave