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At The Evening Sky by Glenn Bagshaw
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Poem by Glenn Bagshaw, recited by Dawn Sinclair Music...A Walk in The Sand....kindly provided by the composer Andrew Foyston
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Born Poets is a poetry forum with emphasis on respectful but thorough critique. Until now, we were limited to the written word but it was decided that it would be both helpful and entertaining if we could also hear each other's poems as well as reading them, so we have set up this page for our members who wish to have their poems heard as well as read. It's not impossible that some of the poems will be accompanied by music too, as many of aour mmembers are also musicians. If you like what you hear on this site and want to find out more, please feel free to visit our forum at http://bornpoets.proboards23.com/ If you're a poet yourself and would like to share your works with us and maybe have your poem featured on this page, please feel free to joins us, we always welcome new members. But please bear in mind, this is a critique based forum and whilst our critiques are always friendly, respectful and thoughtful, it's not the place for you if you don't want critique on your poems. But we're a friendly, if slightly mad, bunch and there's always room for one more!
Song Info
Genre
Podcasts Poetry
Charts
Peak #32
Peak in subgenre #10
Author
Glenn Bagshaw/Andrew Foyston
Rights
Glenn Bagshaw/Andrew Foyston
Uploaded
January 05, 2007
Track Files
MP3
MP3 1.9 MB 128 kbps 2:02
Story behind the song
This highly praised poem is perhaps perceived by most as the best of Glenn Bagshaw's and it was my great pleasure to be asked to recite it for him. The name Tommy was a substitute for the original "Sara" for the purposes of this recital, at Glenn's request.
Lyrics
At the evening sky--cosmic mind in thought seems starlight written upon deep darkness-- We stopped, and gazing upward, were dream-taught of Orion, light-quivered in starkness of space; drank from both Dippers of the night that poured on nothingness. Swirled-ballroom Earth stood still. The Bear moved forever with bright tread as Pleiades sang their ageless birth. Dizzy on tip-toes, we were far, too far infinitesimal to the heavens--dust, flecks washed in forever, leaving no scar. So Sara, that's how I thought of us, both thrust in cinder of life's seconds; loving-- pity for each-- with spite for uptown firmaments that founded and formed the neon city: bare-bulbed vacancy, lifeless tenements. We were so very starry-eyed ourselves in embrace, that we soon forgot to heed how loud is the silence that never delves self; for huge death sparks spurs to night's dark steed.
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