# Heaven's Toil



## Mickd (May 25, 2017)

The toil of heaven is lined with trinkets and baubles,
empty hallways draped in a fool's gold.
A longing for perfection, elusive and hard to find,
out of frustration heaven becomes blind.

Utopia is not borne on the wings of millennia,
or even of days.
But on moments so fleeting they burst, shimmer,
and then fade.
The measure of heaven is not in eternity,
but in the burning of seconds, that smolder in time.

Bolts of lightning that flash along our periphery,
yet can glow just as bright.
Subtle streaks that are seldom seen,
but in their wake the thunder rumbles and rings.
A subtle cacophony that disrupts our days,
and a gentle discord that haunts our nights.

Within unexpected glances therein nirvana lies,
lightning in a bottle if only we open our eyes.


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## PiP (May 25, 2017)

Hi Mickd, loved the messsage behind the poem. One point, nivana should be - Nivana?


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## jenthepen (May 25, 2017)

Hi, Mickd and welcome to the poetry forum. 

I enjoyed this poem a lot. I think the message is unusual and interesting - the sort of work that sets me thinking and that's always good. 

You may disagree but I can't help thinking this would be even more powerful without the first stanza. I think the sense of the poem is captured in the other verses and the regular way of thinking about heaven doesn't need to be spelled out beforehand.

The other thing I noticed was the double use of 'subtle' in the third stanza. Maybe find an alternative for one of them?

This is a fascinating poem and I look forward to reading more from you.

jen


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## Mickd (May 25, 2017)

Thanks Pip, for taking your time and your input. I didn’t realize that Nirvana needed to be capitalized! I appreciate that, and will correct. Thanks again.


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## Mickd (May 25, 2017)

Thanks Jen, for taking your time and giving me some good feedback. I can’t argue with you, by omitting the first stanza the poem does feel a bit more engaging. The first stanza is more exposition than message, having said that however, I do like the symmetry it offers to the ending. 

I thought Iwas doing so well by not repeating my words however one fell through the crack. I appreciate you bringing it to my attention and will be looking for a suitable replacement. 

Once again thanks for your comments.


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## jenthepen (May 26, 2017)

Another suggestion - how about omitting the first two lines. Keep lines 3 and 4 of the first stanza to balance the final two lines?


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## Firemajic (May 27, 2017)

Mickd said:


> The toil of heaven is lined with trinkets and baubles,
> empty hallways draped in a fool's gold.
> A longing for perfection,******************************* elusive and hard to find,**
> ********************************************************out of frustration heaven becomes blind.
> ...





Hello, Mickd... to use your own word... this poem is "elusive"... hard to nail down any mood or message...  " "A subtle  cacophony that disrupts our days, and a gentle discord that haunts our nights..... ...................well... yeah... but ... what does that mean... really... this poem is like eating cotton candy... fabulously sticky and sweet... but lacking in depth and dimension....  get real.. get real with your emotions, get real with your message... I am not troubled by  "Thunder rumbles"... I am haunted by demons... pain, betrayal, lack of peace... that's why I search for Nirvana ....there is nothing "subtle" about my quest... You write pretty words and poetic phrases ..... I can see your potential as a powerful poet.... can you?????


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## Mickd (May 28, 2017)

Firemagic, thank you for your time and your comments. I appreciate your honest feedback and will do my best to use them as a tool to build and grow on as a writer. One of my concerns as I wrote this poem was that my message was not explicit enough, so admittedly while vague, there is a specific message layered within its fabric.

Like you I’m also troubled by demons, but unlike storms, demons I can often understand. Frequently I know what they are, how they manifested, and to a certain degree, how to combat them. The “quiet storms” I refer to in my poem are the missed opportunities, unrealized moments spent with the people I care about. This is the subtle cacophony that disrupts my day, and the gentle discord that haunts my nights. Inversely the “lightning in a bottle” is when I’ve realized the importance of the experience and lived in it instead of speeding through. I think the lightning metaphor works well here, because you don’t always see the strike but the thunder is almost always heard.

So coming around full circle and back to your original point, yes the message isn’t readily apparent, but it is there. Unfortunately, I think some readers are going to be disappointed by its lack of transparency. Once again I appreciate your time and honest opinion.


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## Firemajic (May 28, 2017)

Fair enough, and well expressed.... hahaaa, we obviously have a different relationship with our demons...


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