The Silver Coin's Be-quest

Masterful poem my friend. Time stands still with the metaphor of the coin yet time moves at a frenetic pace from childhood to old age as the dusk turns to night. You brilliantly use the coin symbolically as treasure that can buy a lifetime but senility makes this man forget inflation/passing of time while his life wanes. The coin is his salvation; priceless and something " he must not go without", forgetting that unlike inatimate objects, lives don't stand still. Absolutely brilliant Douglas!

Thank you for these precious silver coins. I long for such thoughtful and insightful comments by such esteemed writers as this...

Amanda
You are certainly on the right path. Sometimes I am surprized that a reader and writer such as yourself would take such care in deciphering my chaotic verse, but you seem to navigate the ideas with ease. I know that to do so takes precious time, and I am humbled that you spend such time with me among rat's nest of my ADD.

Amy
Wow! Your mind has truly developed with the scrutiny of graduate critique. I know it has been excruciating at times being subjected to the harsh and unforgiving analysis of a graduate seminars, however, when I am the benifactor of your expanding mind, I am honored at your expense. Thank you so much.

I will elaborate on the content and meaning of the "The Last Silver Coin" after others have had opportunity to comment. I hope you both will return later for that explanation.

Cindy
Again, I am encouraged that you have taken such time to analyze this piece. Your interpretation of the coin is; well, I want to wait to say until others respond. Thank you for your careful reading and interpretation. It is very motivating to have been paid such generous attention. Thank you.

Douglas,
Your work is amazing. I am not yet skilled enough to critique anyone's writing, as I have not been one to share. I can say though, that to me that last coin symbolizes the start of the end. One last go round. This reminds me of a time in my life where things inevitably came to a close and I was not ready to let go... that last coin would buy me some time. Time that will soon end.

Carolanne
Thank you for your insightful interpretation. I appreciate most that you took the time to share your thoughts and personal applications to your own life with such attention. Afterall - that is why I write.

I love it Doug.. and I live it here every day.

Truly masterful, Doug.

Masterful is the key word here. And rightly so. This is a well structured and meaningful poem and one the writer ought to be proud to have written.

The coin is a mirror?

Wonderful-I love the way you express.

This exquisite illusory narrative poem begins with a declaration: a young man's last silver coin remains. Thus we are immediately introduced to the narrator's objective and perhaps omnicient viewpoint. The young man does not discover the coin. It remains. It is a gift from his father given to him some time in the past. We discover the father has had a tragic outcome, but he has bequeathed this coin to not only purchase "things", but also the "heights to depths of life," "young lover's lust," "rush of childbirth," etc. The things that matter in life. The narrator asks, "Who should steal such things away?" and the poem turns on this question. The careful reader should avoid distilling the poem down to quest to fully embrace the meaning of the coin. What comes through is the vibrancy and hope of a legacy passed on by a father, in a currency not to be valued alone in memories ("far more than memories"), but the eternal effects of a life passed on and lived "tempered in cool oil, its alloy flesh of steel." Here we see the grief of loss of identity (as in the metaphor of loss of memory) superceded and surpassed by the realization of the gift passed down, father to son, the coin, his life. A difficult poem to explicate in many ways, and as such, an alluring and captivating piece. As I read the poem, many many time, I became more familiar with it; yet I will say, and this only to by way of suggestion, I think the poem can be strengthened a bit shoring up a few key syntactical areas that give rise to some potential ambiguities, thus forcing the reader to try harder to understand than may be necessary for the desired effect. Brillian poem Douglas.

Doug - a wonderful poem that has such vivid imagery. Excellent work :)

Lloyd, Kathryn, Ludolfo
Thank you all for the kind and encouraging comments.

Terry
Thank you so much for the encouragement and compliment.

Susan,
You have it right - the coin is a mirror. It is silver and reflective, and how it is spent reflects upon a person's character.

Liz
Thanks - I always love to hear about my work affects you. I am delighted that I made you feel comfortable.

Edward
Wow! I am honored that you should take such care with your analysis. Three revisions I see. More than any comment you have given about my work, this one tells me I have stepped up because it is the first time you have given me the courtesy of your critique and suggestions for improvement. I very encouraged.
Most notable about your comment was that you addressed the stanza with "tempered in cool oil, its alloy flesh of steel," it is the autobiographical element of the piece.

Amy
Thank you so much for a return visit. I appreciate that you understand my need for revision and that I don't mind readers observing the process to some extent.

I think we see here, Douglas, the best of Gather: A fine poem plus thoughtful readers. I am always so pleased to see the diversity of thought, and as you said, to read the way your writing affects an individual. For myself, I feel an age-related melancholy while reading this. (Oh, I'm too smart, too late!) Vain reader, turning the poem inwards to myself! Smile.

"the rush of childbirth couched in trust..." A magnificent, poignant line. And, "tempered in cool oil, its alloy flesh of steel..." Such portraits, these lines.

Imagine a bouquet sent to you from me.

Lisa
Thank you for the wonderful and supportive comment.

Barbary
Yes - and thank you for retruning and checking out the revision. I have made further changes and have sent them to Edward for one last effort. I am still far from "shattering my head into shards of effort."

oh my this is beautiful. i have read a lot of poems and articles today and your writing has touched me the most. the way i tend to judge writing is...does it move me emotionally? your writing definitely has today and so i would like to feature this on my group synchronicity's sweet tea cafe.

"stepped up?" Are you kidding man? I've always very highly regarded your work, Douglas. But I thank you nonetheless for your kind remark.

Thank you Sychronicity M. I look forward to the honor.

Edward,
Thank you for the specific suggestions on the side. You are a great help.

Douglas, this poem pulls me into a circle of life and rememberance, the coin travels the circle pulling along the narrator. I'm like Barbary, I see familiar images here. Wonderful piece!

Faith
Thank you faith - I appreciate the the feedback.

Renda
Thank you for the endearing comment.

Cindy
Thank you so much, I commend you on your careful reading and appreciation for the details.

Douglas, this is such a powerful, truely awesome poem. You are such a wonderful writer. Your words come from such depths, and take us into your soul. My favorite phrase in this is "before the man becomes a child". Isn't life just like that? So many things are not realized until we find and reclaim that child within. Wonderful, my friend.

ahhhhhhhh, this sings ever brighter, Douglas. The photo is just delightful, a perfect adjunct to this marvelous poem.

This poem will hold me inside it forever somehow...it is just such a mirror of my father's loss of his father at the age of nine. His father was an exceptionally successful attorney, raised the family in an enormous mansion, but died young of many sorrowful reasons, leaving almost nothing to his family but some furniture. My father, te youngest of 12, was the recipient only of one gold coin that played a pivotal role throughout his life, always at his bedside, until a critical moment in an enormous lawsuit he undertook. He went to "consult" his coin and it had magically disappeared and he was left to fend for himself. It was most painful and mysterious and has always haunted me a bit, this coin. I am sorry to waste so much time on this intro, but wanted to personalize my complete absorption and admiration of this most magnificant poem.
These mirrored quests of inheritance, centering from the loss of the man whose true wealth of friendship and guidance and support is now encapsulated into this poem's embrace , catapult a complex generational merging and extended relationship of primary life sequences seeking love and fruitful life through the continuance of vital wisdom. This sometimes courses smoothly through the veins, and sometimes is shattered into shards, to be revisited in fragments. Both elemental vehicles of seeking truth and substance hold this fine piece togather and make reading it, a full throttle engagement of all sensory and investigative resource. The result for me, a sigh of respect for you for the many revisions, the courage to face your heart so bravely, and the artistic gift to make this so beautifully poignant and memorable and splendidly written. This poem throbs for me and I find myself wanting to embrace the thin alloy flesh of the child within who loves and lives on, extending the vitality of his inheritance so, so gently and melodiously, opening newly spun threads of the generational tapestry to weave unique gifts shared from a well-developed heart.

Chaotic verse? When I read that in one of your comments in the thread, my dear friend, I simply chuckled. Having read you so many times I know their is always method in your divine madness, (if mad we be when stealing fire from the Gods like Prometheus and passing on the secret generation to generation.)

So much in this deeply affecting poem of a talisman of the past triggering an infinite pointing at experience through memory that links our lives days, months, years at a time, in the blood and the DNA, to our ancestral past, through moments passed exchanging the sweet essence of our repeated paths through recursive labyrinths of consciously exhumed love.

What strikes me as exemplary above all here is your getting the sense and sound exactly right in the cadences of this lyrical offering. We get flashes of the full import of the chain of father and son bonds, one generation after another, that have brought this speaker to a powerful reflection on his own father´s importance to his formation. But it is the authority and at the same time delicacy of the language itself, with its structuring play of short and long accented meter, internal rhymes, and arresting images (¨rush of childbirth¨, ¨that dark well´s rift) that impels us to read and reread yearning to understand this enigma of identity as seen through ´he who brought me into being.¨I hear traces of Rilke´s own struggle with his father here, as well as his forgiving love toward the memory of the man.

What Kafka was so desperately trying to do with his own father but could not, that is to say, find love and the attention he deserved beyond pleasing autocratic strictures hewn through centuries of harsh male role, also comes to mind.

Just fascinating, shimmering work, my dearest Douglas. I am sorry I haven´t surveyed your poetry on Gather in so long, I hope you accept my excuses of travel and lucubration. I have read your THE TRUTH IN THE PLANES completely, and will comment on that to you soon in a private email.

Big hug from Spain. I am envisioning your kind, healer´s eyes in my mind´s eye right now, with roses behind you and a breeze blowing across the Angeles Crest. I am so glad I met you and discovered you were not just a virtual find of a poet and thinker, but also a quite real, caring and genuine person.

Cheryl
Your comments always give me reason to continue writing. You are so precious as a reader and I am always delighted with your sincerity, encouraging words, and friendship. Thank you so very much.

Laura
Returning after a day out with my family to find your amazing story was moving beyond words. I tried to read your comment to my wife and I became choked up and she had to read it out loud for me. Your story about your wonderful father's gold coin is incredibly moving, and that this poem caused you to recall it with such power is humbling. Thank you so very much for a comment that is truly a precious and valuable gem that I have read several times and will certainly return and read again and again. You are a dear friend and I am terribly moved by your kindness and sensitivity.

John
How can I give you the words you deserve. I am touched by your comment and after Laura's I am starting to blubber. From your earliest comments over a year ago you began to move my heart and mind with your generosity and fellowship of word and deeds. Your healing and strength have been a light to guide me in moments when I too needed healing and your courage made it easy to find my way. Where would I be now if it weren't for your kind and wise words at every turn of the page, I am truly blessed by your kindness and love. You will always be the dearest of friend.