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Open Poetry #47
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blankmirrors
Junior Member
since 2010-07-16
Posts 14


0 posted 2011-03-06 11:42 PM


T w i l i g h t
On the shattered floor of the day
We step barefoot
Among the useless fragments of words:
Fragile masks of our soul.

*    *   *

In the twilight of my hours
Life seems a silent milk
That leaves in my mouth nothing to say,
Only the quiet weariness of a nipple
That found its way home.

*   *   *

Newspapers are blown over our floors,
Like a written cry,
Fluttering between the fleeting and the final:
The two faces of fear.

*   *   *

The interval between the words
Transport my invisible tremble:
The secret breath
That lives and dies in my chest.

© Copyright 2011 blankmirrors - All Rights Reserved
passing shadows
Member Empyrean
since 1999-08-26
Posts 45577
displaced
1 posted 2011-03-07 12:06 PM


pretty deep stuff

well done

Lori Grosser Rhoden
Member Patricius
since 2009-10-10
Posts 10202
Fair to middlin' of nowhere
2 posted 2011-03-07 09:02 AM


Very well done indeed!. Looking forward to reading more of your work.
Lori

OwlSA
Member Rara Avis
since 2005-11-07
Posts 9347
Durban, South Africa
3 posted 2011-03-07 04:39 PM


As with the other 2 of this suite of poems, very beautiful, sensitive and unique.  Some interesting and effective concepts - the two faces of fear being the fleeting and the final; windblown newspapers being like a written cry; and the effect of the spaces between words - like the pauses between musical notes.  

Owl

steavenr
Member Elite
since 2003-11-17
Posts 4058

4 posted 2011-03-07 08:16 PM


"On the shattered floor of the day
We step barefoot
Among the useless fragments of words"

imagery here is simply amazing...once again, nice work

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