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literature
white smoke
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Literature Text
Lines (inclusive of spaces): 33
By the promise of the moon, that shines
Among the stars, where our ancestors stand
by the brave, the ancients.
There does our path lead us, to the paths
Where our spirits embrace platitudes held as truth:
We are made from Mother Earth and we go back to Mother Earth
Harken, oh heavens above, to the calls of the elders.
The white smoke carries the spirit to the heavens
Raised was the call, as the ashes burns
burns the remains, a sacrifice, to call out
for a moment... calm; the moon's translucence
All sing with the elder, beckoning you
farewell; we watch, as your spirit finds peace
It takes a thousand voices to tell a single story
Thus do we cry, dearly departed:
The white smoke carries the spirit to the heavens
The smoke disappears, as the mist embraces the skies
And I recall what the ancestors had told me:
When you die, you will be spoken of as those in the sky, like the stars.
Thus is the prayer answered:
By the promise of the moon, that shines
Among the stars, where our ancestors stand
by the brave, the ancients.
Embracing with open arms, so the elders have told us:
The white smoke carries the spirit to the heavens
By the promise of the moon, that shines
Among the stars, where our ancestors stand
by the brave, the ancients.
There does our path lead us, to the paths
Where our spirits embrace platitudes held as truth:
We are made from Mother Earth and we go back to Mother Earth
Harken, oh heavens above, to the calls of the elders.
The white smoke carries the spirit to the heavens
Raised was the call, as the ashes burns
burns the remains, a sacrifice, to call out
for a moment... calm; the moon's translucence
All sing with the elder, beckoning you
farewell; we watch, as your spirit finds peace
It takes a thousand voices to tell a single story
Thus do we cry, dearly departed:
The white smoke carries the spirit to the heavens
The smoke disappears, as the mist embraces the skies
And I recall what the ancestors had told me:
When you die, you will be spoken of as those in the sky, like the stars.
Thus is the prayer answered:
By the promise of the moon, that shines
Among the stars, where our ancestors stand
by the brave, the ancients.
Embracing with open arms, so the elders have told us:
The white smoke carries the spirit to the heavens
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This is my entry for the contest by Lissomer provided here:
Basically, the rules of the contest are simple: Pick a color, put it as a title, describe it poetically. Be creative, keep it limited to 33 lines. Submit as many as you want, but only the one best work will be selected. So here's my entry.
White Smoke is actually a color.
white smoke: #FFFF5F5F5 (reference: www.decoratehomenow.com/wp-con… )
if its on paint, its on record, hence, I win
Some of the lines in Italics are Native American proverbs. Specifically:
We are made from Mother Earth and we go back to Mother Earth
It takes a thousand voices to tell a single story
When you die, you will be spoken of as those in the sky, like the stars.
Although it is open ended - interpretations are welcome, so fire away people.
Happy reading.
Micro Colour Contest!UPDATE UPDATE UPDATE:
Okay, so this is a pretty cool announcement. Instead of just me staring blankly at all of your incredible entries and having NO IDEA who to pick, I'm bringing in the big guns!
Please welcome the incomparable chromeantennae,
who is joining me as a Special Guest Judge!
I consider Ricky to be one of my closest friends, and one of my favourite poets here on deviantArt. He has a wonderful eye for the incredible, and I'm sure he'll be super great help with the (daunting) task of judging your fantastic work! Here are just a few words from Ricky. "Hey guys! I just wanted to thank Lissomer for being so kind as to ask me about helping judge her contest. I can't wait to dig into all of you guys' wonderful poetry. Much love to all."
Also, we have a new addition to the prize-list; features from the lovely SpriteBlayde!
Remember, you can enter as many times as you like, but you can only be placed once.
Enter heaps, y
Basically, the rules of the contest are simple: Pick a color, put it as a title, describe it poetically. Be creative, keep it limited to 33 lines. Submit as many as you want, but only the one best work will be selected. So here's my entry.
White Smoke is actually a color.
white smoke: #FFFF5F5F5 (reference: www.decoratehomenow.com/wp-con… )
if its on paint, its on record, hence, I win
Some of the lines in Italics are Native American proverbs. Specifically:
We are made from Mother Earth and we go back to Mother Earth
It takes a thousand voices to tell a single story
When you die, you will be spoken of as those in the sky, like the stars.
Although it is open ended - interpretations are welcome, so fire away people.
Happy reading. © 2014 - 2024 Chezzy-Am
Comments14
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I had to read through this poem more than once to get a feeling for what exactly was going on here. I now understand that it's telling the story of a Native American funeral pyre, to honor the passing of an elder and "releasing" him/her through white smoke into the sky and the stars, to join up with their ancestors.
It's all very tranquil, in spite of the cries of bereavement. The "thousand voices" seem to accept this as part of the circle of life, hence the "we are made from Mother Earth and we go back to Mother Earth," and acknowledge that the elder's time has come. There's even a glimmer of hope, I detect, as the spirit ascends with the white smoke. And on a side note, I decided to look up the practice of cremation to see whether white smoke is actually a by-product, and I learned that modern cremation uses superheated flames to vaporize body tissue, but with a natural wood fire, the temperatures would be lower, and the fats and oils of the body would most likely be the component giving off white smoke.
It's all very tranquil, in spite of the cries of bereavement. The "thousand voices" seem to accept this as part of the circle of life, hence the "we are made from Mother Earth and we go back to Mother Earth," and acknowledge that the elder's time has come. There's even a glimmer of hope, I detect, as the spirit ascends with the white smoke. And on a side note, I decided to look up the practice of cremation to see whether white smoke is actually a by-product, and I learned that modern cremation uses superheated flames to vaporize body tissue, but with a natural wood fire, the temperatures would be lower, and the fats and oils of the body would most likely be the component giving off white smoke.