
“By Reading” by David Burliuk
The end of the day strikes the most troubling ticks of my clock.
So many thoughts gather all day in my head. Each and all
want my nightly reflection and orderly broom-clean sweep.
The right things acknowledged, safe put behind mind’s key and lock.
The wrong things I agonize over and file for recall.
Then I hunt up a good book to carry me off to my sleep.
My mind thus engaged, I make my yawning way down the hall
where I notice that something’s not right, no, not right at all.
My library doorsill is cast with an unexplained light,faint,unsteady.
Yet, I know that I never leave candles at night burning ready.
Strange noises within give me start and a slight swoon to heady.
With firm grasp of the knob and a cautious inquisitive pace,
I silently open on scene so alarming my heart kicks to race.
At my old oaken rolltop, where I compose papers,shimmers a ghost.
An unsettling icy gust shivers my tapers,lit at their post.
Ethereal odor hangs heavy, like vapors,air full engrossed.
The wraith bears no features of ready identity,
no hallmarks defining this intruding entity.
Yet, there’s some tacit sense of familiar bearing upon my chair.
My presence goes heedless of notice, or caring,as does my stare.
Colorless hands grip one loose-leaf and, tearing,create a pair.
Hunched forward, its fullest attention is paid those two slips.
Shapeless fingers take up one and touch it to pursed pensive lips.
With a tug at my collar, my neck stretched to bolder,I take some steps in.
As if in a deepfreeze, each inhale pulls colder than wickedest sin.
I anxiously peer over top of its shoulder,leery within.
The flickering light is sufficient to reveal those writs,
and what I read curdles my stomach and slurries my wits.
Each piece carries one trim and well-columned list,as if by my hand.
One, quite long, catalogues all my vices. None were missed. It bears Death’s brand.
The other, quite brief, my few virtues. Little grist.Morally bland.
I screw up the courage to speak to the poltergeist’s back.
“Who are you and what are doing with my life in track?”
A rumbling laugh shudders through floor joists and beams.Up comes my fear.
“I’m the one knows you best, not the ‘you’ that just seems.” Dread shoots a spear.
“I’m here to take stock of your doings and schemes.” Is it Death here?
“Why does Death play me for the fool with this furtive call?”
At that brave declamation, I back up, retreating its pall.
With awkward stiff movements, impossibly mine,it rises slow.
Using gestures I’ve made all my life, it gives sign not to go.
Comprehension too sluggish, so still his design I don’t know.
“Why does Death come cruel mimic, posing as shadow of me?”
He merely holds out the two papers with my life’s debris.
Still fearful and cold, I slump under worried weight,unwont to move.
“The time’s not arrived when I close your estate.” There’s no reprove.
“Am I not, then, about to be sent to my fate, as you behoove?”
“Death I am not, but Death takes my recommendation.
Time yet to turn bad for good and well earn your salvation.”
I reach out, implausibly taking possession of my life from me.
Learning destiny’s null, but for my own discretion, feels rather free.
Displacing my heretofore ghastly expression, a wink of glee.
My visitor fades till his pulsating aura has vanished.
Blessed warmth returns, air clarifies, and all odor is banished.
Memorizing the lists like treasure maps, I cinch my robe.
No more vestige of him, I lower the tambour in place.
Candlefire dispatches his work, not to leave them about.
So much to reflect on tonight, much to ponder and probe.
Remake vice as virtue, heal ethos, restore soul to grace.
I find sleep in due course. Or do I? There lingers some doubt.
(originally posted December 2013)
Exceptional
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thank you kindly
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Gripping and wonderfully told! Love this piece!
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much appreciated
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What a story, Paul!
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(another comment I found in spam) – this old brain sometimes farts the strangest things
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Hahaha! Now this made me laugh. Hardly a fart. Hardly old.
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it pleases me to make you laugh
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The feeling would be mutual, if i had the ability to be witty.
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I can’t help but notice a rhythm from “The Night Before Christmas” mixed into the verse, like a symphony playing a contemporary version of a classic. Was this intentional or have you been reading Christmas tales as you wrote this? Wonderful piece.
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I often have melodies in mind when writing verse, but not so consciously – in this case, it could very well have been Christmas carols
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Very, very good – as ever! Also, the postman has defied a major storm here on England’s South Eastern corner and delivered up your new book!
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so glad it arrived – hope you enjoy what you find in it
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Fantastic Poem, Friend 🙂 Blessings and Joy for a Happy New Year !
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thank you so much – and a blessed New Year to you and yours
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Brilliant… Did you mean to channel Dickens?
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not intentionally, but his stories are always rumbling through my brain
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“Slurried wits” is my pick in this–surely a common state for me. I hope you don’t really believe salvation is “earned”–if that were the case, Jesus’ death was in vain, and thus all the more cruel. Leaving the pulpit now…
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oh dear, I’m afraid we may disagree – I believe Jesus redeemed us from original sin – after that it’s up to us to use our free will as God endowed it – but if we choose to live a life of unrepentant sin, we go to hell – in other words, we earn salvation or not with the way we live our lives
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If “we” reject Christ and “choose to live a life of unrepentant sin”–yes, hell is our eternal destiny. But for those “In Christ”–who have accepted His Lordship over their lives and have received His free gift (not to be confused with “earnings”) of Salvation–forgiveness of sins, and daily grace and mercy–our salvation unto eternal life in Heaven is secured. I have a cake in the oven, so no time to type out all the Bible verses–but you might have another look at Psalm 103. Verse 3 says ALL our sins are forgiven–again, this applies to Believers and Receivers of Christ–which I assumed you are. There’s no way even the best of us could make up for (earn our way out of) all our sins–that’s why God sent us a Savior. Hope you’re havin’ a good day–it’s back to the kitchen for me!
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I believe we have we have bumped into a fundamental distinction of (my) Catholic from (your?) Protestant Christianity – namely the Catholic devotion to sacraments and in particular the sacrament of penance – which we believe was instituted by Christ for the remission of sins committed after baptism – and that involves confession and priestly (apostolic) absolution – I’m having a blessed day – hope your kitchen work turns out superbly
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I had a feeling it was a Catholic/Protestant issue–and not even all Protestants agree on every point. I believe my faith walk includes ongoing repentance (Gr. “metanoia”, changing the mind) assisted by the transforming power of the Holy Spirit–but not a religious/formal “sacrament of penance”, since Christ already paid the full and complete cost of my sins on the cross. Focusing on His finished work of redemption at the cross lifts me up and motivates me to do my best to honor Him, and His position as Great High Priest–whereas focusing on my sinfulness, even after receiving His salvation, kept me disabled by depression for decades. And I’m convinced He’d rather I be joyful. Hope you don’t think I’m arguing with you, with the goal of persuading you I’m “right”–free will means we can choose how we believe. My beloved cousin is a devout Catholic–and it troubles me that, for all her devotion to the sacraments, she does not voice security re her eternal home. Where is the peace that passes understanding, I wonder?
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Reblogged this on Poesy plus Polemics.
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Reblogged this on OUR POETRY CORNER.
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thank you for sharing my poem with your readers
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This could be your opus, dear heart! It is marvelous!!
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it was a departure for me but fun to write
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Great writing–fabulous imagery.
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something different for me, but it was fun to concoct
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I reread our previous comment exchange, and had better understanding not to go there again. How good it is that friendships can grow–even from across the country!
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That’s a masterpiece ! Wonderful
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I sincerely appreciate your kind words
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How weird. I’m feeling a rhythm by Edgar Allen Poe in my head while reading this. Pretty nice stuff, indeed!
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you gladden this old heart
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Simply marvellous, Paul. A treat from start to end…..only, it’s not the end. Superb!
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so glad you enjoyed it
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indeed a poetic encounter with one’s Self
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seems to happen more often with age
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yes – with age the wine matures
read some of the interpretations, Catholic and Protestant – very interesting how a saviour’s suffering or confession is taken as absolution of man’s wrongdoings – much like the Hindu dip in the holy Ganges when the star configurations are right, washes off all sin – but that apparition appears more like Mr. Karma recording meticulously every action like our PCs do in their history which of course we can delete with one finger through that Gangetic dip or Christ on the cross or a confession – but the deletion is illusory comfort ( and comforting is the grace allowed)- the hard disc retains the record like Karmic memory embedded in our ‘subtle bodies’ and while we Hindus do not believe in heaven or hell for errant souls ( as souls are never errant being a spark of the divine within – call it conscience) we reinterpret heaven and hell as reincarnation which creates heavenly and hellish situations to experience as correctives till finally ‘History’ is deleted from the hard disc and the eternal soul finds salvation ( Moksha or Nirvana) not reincarnating physically again as Karmic effects have been dissolved and the soul returns to its sublime source of truth, bliss and enlightenment after several roller coaster rides.
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I appreciate your most thoughtful and informative cmments
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Hmm, I’m sure tha tyou didn’t intend to stir up a sectarian “war” or debate. I declare myself non-partisan! But heavens alive . . . I really enjoyed reading your piece Paul. May I share it with my writers’ forum? It’s just a bunch of us, like thinkers and no yes men, who feed off of each other’s inspiration. We’re also an informal disciplinary commission, putting boots in butts when a member flags. I’ve been kicked a lot lately! Thanks for sharing in this most unusual but intriguing way. P
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as ever, I greatly appreciate your perspective and opinion – I’m pleased to have you share it with your forum – please cite attribution
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Naturally, Paul. And thanks for trusting me to do the right thing.
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Gorgeous in its emotion. I loved it.
Was that spectre Time or Past, or something else?
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many thanks – as best as I can imagine, I think it’s the ghost of conscience
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Powerful imagery
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much appreciated
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