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==Unspent Dawns==
I arrived to you as a harbor battered by its own waves,
salt‑scored, muttering to gulls that never answered.
In your quiet courtyard my storms fell silent—
we planted lemons in the clay and their small roots
took hold the way forgiveness does: unseen, unhurried.
I walked the corridors of myself, lantern lifted,
so the dark could witness me no different
than the noon‑bright street.
Each shadow I carried bent to its knees,
learning the discipline of light.
I saw the old currents of impulse go quiet,
not hushed by force but eased by vigilance.
I traced the geometry of hearts:
how delicately they tilt toward ruin.
Still I braced their trembling arches
with words braided from breath and vow,
hoisting strangers’ mornings on my shoulders
though their replies fell cold and unyielding.
A silence grew intelligent between us—
naming absences, polishing regret—
the error named is already softer.
I studied its chipped syllables like a scholar
rubbing dust from a shard of amphora,
footnoting apology upon each fracture
forging now a lexicon of healing.
I stood naked before my own pulse,
counting each weakness the way a diver
counts breaths before the plunge:
one for fear, one for pride,
another for the hot coal of a hasty tongue.
Yet I did not turn away; the sea was instruction,
its pressure a promise to surface true.
And I loved—God, I loved—
with a rope that had no knots for pulling away.
I gave breadth, I gave shelter,
but would not barter the marrow of my tenderness
for hands careless with its fragility.
When neglect arrived dressed as devotion,
I slipped my name from that weave of thorns.
The horizon blistered, then brightened—
metal sundered into light.
I gathered yesterday’s shards,
turned them until they glittered,
and stitched them into the lining of the coat I would wear to leave.
So here is my leaving:
not a retreating tide, but a river
reaching its mouth—salty, yes,
yet opening to a vaster blue.
I walk, cedar‑scented, luminous with bruise,
my pockets filled with unspent dawns.
I call this heartbreak, and I call it victory,
for I am the man who learned
to guard the world from his own storms,
to stand readable as daylight,
to lift, to care, to cradle, to mend,
to declare his cracked places,
to sprint toward the roar in the dark,
to sharpen his wondering mind,
and to love without chains—
while never again accepting iron
masquerading as a kiss.
I keep the lemons thriving.
Their blossoms remind the night air
that bitterness, too, can flower.
-- Jeffrey Phillips Freeman
@admitsWrongIfProven You want an analysis of the poem and what it all means? I mean I have my notes I can always share that explains the imagery and purpose of most of it, but wouldnt that ruin ithe discovery of such things?
No its ok, dont feel you need to excluded. I appreciate the effort if nothing else.
I'm just asking, do you want an analytical break down of its construction or what? I generally find explaining poems ruin them so I'm just trying not to ruin it for you, otherwise happy to answer any questions.
> I'm a bit concerned if you would extend the right to live in peace to people that cannot make their own fortune, but i don't think you would hate, so i would like to know your thoughts.
In what way did you find this relates to the poem? Not sure where that comes from.
> Lyrics tangled as thoughts, i did not see a clear line of thought. There was achievement, uncertainty, a sense of being alone, trying for sure as you trace the geometry of hearts. But it went another way before i could relate, just like Slayer.
It is meant to show a journey of growth and betterment in the face of tragedy or loss. To walk away a better person from tragedy and seeing that as a victory despite the need for morning.
It is essentially a love poem of a person who invested everything to become a better person for the person they loved and in the end were hurt by them and decided to leave, and instead of dwelling on the heart break, they recognize it but see the growth and journey as ultimately a victory.
@admitsWrongIfProven Fair, ill give you the notes and breakdown I have then and I hope it will help you understand the meaning behind the imagery:
# Narrative Arc & Thematic Fidelity
- Arrival → Reckoning → Departure should be crisp.
The horizon blistered, then brightened— / metal sundered into light succinctly marks the decisive turning point: pain transforming to radiance.
- The closing virtues should remain demonstrated, not lectured; every infinitive in the list has should be pre‑earned by prior action or image, so the final stanza lands as affirmation rather than summary.
# Imagery & Symbol Cohesion
Motif / Function / notes
- Water (waves, tide, river, sea)
Emotional flux, integrity
Now balanced between turbulence and clear emergence (surface true).
- Light (lantern, disciplined light, sundered metal)
Self‑revelation
The “discipline of light” + “surface true” pairing underscores moral vigilance.
- - tone / Shard / Metal
Past wounds, resilience
Stitching shards into a coat is a visually elegant metaphor for carrying scars as craft.
- Lemons
Quiet perseverance, bittersweet forgiveness
Placement only at opening and close keeps the symbol potent.
# Virtues Embodied
- Integrity in darkness & light
“so the dark could witness me no different / than the noon‑bright street.”
- Self‑discipline
old currents of impulse go quiet, not hushed by force but eased by vigilance.
- Uplifting others
hoisting strangers’ mornings on my shoulders.
- Scholarly self‑examination
footnoting apology upon each fracture / forging now a lexicon of healing.
- Setting boundaries
never again accepting iron / masquerading as a kiss.
# Other considerations of flow / meter / imagery
“footnoting apology upon each fracture / forging now a lexicon of healing.”—the enjambment gives breath, and forging adds sonic heft that echoes the upcoming metal imagery.
“its pressure a promise to surface true.”—true carries a moral and optical double meaning; the half‑stressed monosyllable quickens the line’s close.
# Intended emotion resonance
The poem should read as a continuous, controlled surge. Nothing feeling extraneous; yet each stanza should retain room for the reader’s own breath. It should balance lush phrasing and disciplined syntax in order to model the journey from riotous impulse toward mindful strength.
@freemo @admitsWrongIfProven Not sure which poem it's referring to but I would take the notes anyway, it's interesting.
And always I thought when people wrote #music songs or #poems that explaining the imagery and purpose of would be far better for (meaningful stuff) than any bliss without knowing why they made it and what for... :) So no harm done / better knowing and understanding the #real...
thanks, also check #qoto hashtag later if you get a chance.
