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Open Poetry #38
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icebox
Member Elite
since 2003-05-03
Posts 4383
in the shadows

0 posted 2006-06-06 07:27 PM





Lately,
when I dream of you,
though as always without intent,
the shadow tongues of memory
reach inside the mists of imagery
like the scent of night-blooming Cereus
sifting,
slipping silently
through wisps of my awareness
in moonlight's early drift.  

…is it really only in memory,
and only in my memory,
that still you live
where my soul retains the touch of heat
once shared so extravagantly,
so timelessly,
the shock of joining in an instant’s unexpected fire,
the touch of skin stroked without thought,
the whim of being kissed with passion
casually.

In intervening waves
most of my days have rolled by slowly,
from tears at dawn’s birth
into each evening’s planned out sweet oblivion
without counting weeks,
as months,
then years,
slipped by.

I wonder at times,
was love forgotten on this trail of wanton graves
ever hungry to be filled
with streams of bodies that
young
seemed to be unending,
choices,
so necessitated by survival,
that life itself had to be invented every morning
to give color to a shadow world
wherein love’s meaning refused to be denied.

I wonder,
do you ever wonder
if now I still imagine taste and scent,
time spent
in simple human passing
with age discounted,
for where love does not survive
except as shadows left behind,
time has no real capital
in the heart's
affairs,
nor memories
of the soul locked
inside a room of mirrors
yielding no reflection.

    ©2006 by icebox

.


[This message has been edited by icebox (06-06-2006 11:59 PM).]

© Copyright 2006 icebox - All Rights Reserved
Midnitesun
Deputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Empyrean
since 2001-05-18
Posts 28647
Gaia
1 posted 2006-06-06 07:30 PM



"for where love does not survive
except as shadows left behind,
time has no real capital
in the heart's,
affairs,"
oh my, that has a sting to it

Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049
California
2 posted 2006-06-06 07:47 PM


icebox

"the touch of skin stroked without thought,
the whim of being kissed with passion
casually."

This would not be easy to do or write about.  


shirtless
Member
since 2006-04-29
Posts 359

3 posted 2006-06-06 09:43 PM


Ice, this poem gets me right in the heart.  I was just reading  WHEN YOU ARE OLD, a Yeats poem. It affected me the same way. If I read another poem of this type tonight, my keyboard will be wet. A GREAT WRITE.

PLEASE VISIT MY REGULARLY UPDATED WEB SITE http://www.anthonyarmstrong.zoomshare.com  

iliana
Member Patricius
since 2003-12-05
Posts 13434
USA
4 posted 2006-06-06 10:30 PM


"I wonder,
do you ever wonder
if now I still imagine taste and scent,
time spent
in simple human passing
with age discounted,
for where love does not survive
except as shadows left behind,
time has no real capital
in the heart's,
affairs,
nor memories
of the soul locked
inside a room of mirrors
yielding no reflection."

It is like that....a room of mirrors....how well you put that.  I had a dream just the other night of my first love and it ached, much like your words above, Mr. C.  *hugs*...jo


1slick_lady
Member Ascendant
since 2000-12-22
Posts 6088
standing on a shadow's lace
5 posted 2006-06-06 11:17 PM


when i sleep...i...still...dream...
Honeybunch
Member Rara Avis
since 2001-12-29
Posts 7115
South Africa
6 posted 2006-06-07 10:30 AM


"for where love does not survive
except as shadows left behind,
time has no real capital
in the heart's
affairs,
nor memories
of the soul locked
inside a room of mirrors
yielding no reflection."

Wonderful writing as always, icebox!

icebox
Member Elite
since 2003-05-03
Posts 4383
in the shadows
7 posted 2006-06-07 05:34 PM


Thank you all for the kindness of sharing your thoughts!


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