nedful things

Amazing how the nature has its own concerts, if you just stand and listen you can hear amazing music.

Beautiful work Ned

Janus

Thank you Janus, glad you could stop in for the musical interlude. :)

Night blues, mot juste. The muse aka Ned has again weaved magic and reminded us of the sounds of the night. The wind orchestrating, conducting. Serenading
whilst its power shreds and tears. Now we hear the guitar play the blues in the waves of rain as the soul hears and listens as if it were their's alone.
glennie
http://www.livejournal.com/users/emma_furlong

Thank you Glenni, I like that you liked it.
It's still raining, but the wind has ceased. It's not nearly as interesting tonight.

The way you combine the two key metaphors of storm and blues so economically to create the sense of lacerating desolation that comes both with the one and the other and is always captured, as Clapton says in your quotation, in that element of the music that doesn't come free with our humanity and cannot be taught either ... is just brilliant. I shall carry this one with me, Ned.

Ken

http://strangerken.blogspot.com

Thank you Ken. Coming from such an accomplished poet as you certainly are, that is high praise indeed. I shall carry that with me.

Oh my goodness. I have always loved the Blues but now I think I love those smokey twilight sounding songs even more.

easywriter

Hi easywriter. I like a good moody night and a good moody storm and some good moody music.
Thanks for coming by.

This was one of your best Ned. Your rhythm was spot on. Your economy of words was stellar. As Ken said, the metaphors of storm and blues were a perfect match. But more than anything I loved the adjectives you chose to use… “shredding”, ‘anguished”, “fragile”, “undulating” and “drenched.” Just top notch work on this one Ned. Bravo.

Thanks Mark. I am glad you found something in it. I am also glad you are back and posting, it takes a lot to come out and be honest and open about personal struggles. But you have talent and it would be terrible if you didn't write. So keep writing and I will keep reading.

Hmmm- love the blues. I adore this poem!It sparkles and sings. I adore your word choices: strong verbs, adjectives, metaphor, and similes. This shines. Stellar!
(sorry, I need to dig out my reader account info-came back here tonight through poetic lovely "long and winding road)
SilverMoon http://SilkenThreads18.blog.com

Thanks Slver. I love the blues too, just such an earthy and intangible thing that happens inside me when I listen to the blues. It reaches a place in me that nothing else does and I can't define.
Thanks for the compliment and thanks for appreciating the blues and the poem.

Do you know the Wallace Stevens poem "The Man with the Blue Guitar"? Your limpid lyricism reminds me of that, along with the phrase "riffs of a blues guitar".

from that poem-

The man bent over his guitar,
A shearsman of sorts. The day was green

They said, "You have a blue guitar,
You do not play things as they are."

The man replied, "Things as they are
Are changed upon the blue guitar."

No Garnet, I never heard of it. But I like it. :)