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empty chairs
| Open Poetry #7 |
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empty chairs |
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bsquirrel
since 2000-01-03
Posts 7855
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Dulcinea. I finally looked up the name To find out what it meant. Right between dulcimer and dulia; Lap harps, convocations for lost angels. Dulcinea: a coarse girl, a peasant, Mistaken as beautiful by a madman. He thought windmills were giants. (in a way, they are) Their blades play shadows on your face; Your downturned, look-away-from-me face. The air here is cold. But with the sun rising It can be a church. I've set out chairs in the grass, empty Chairs devoid of their warmth. No one sits Except the light from the sun and the wind From the blades. The dulcimer twangs. Father -- why did you do this? I'm not speaking of god. But the man who so ungently Took you, tore you away. Now you think you are unbeautiful. Now you think me a madman. So I bow my head and remember in prayer What I learned on my own. We all need our crutches to stand tall and free and happily alone. I look back up, the windmill has stopped, The shadow a cross in the silent grass. The empty chairs are all that's there, And I feel free at last. |
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
Dulcinea. I finally looked up the name To find out what it meant. Right between dulcimer and dulia; Lap harps, convocations for lost angels. ----------------- Their blades play shadows on your face; Your downturned, look-away-from-me face. The air here is cold. But with the sun rising It can be a church. -------------- Now you think you are unbeautiful. Now you think me a madman. So I bow my head and remember in prayer What I learned on my own. We all need our crutches to stand tall and free and happily alone. I look back up, the windmill has stopped, The shadow a cross in the silent grass. The empty chairs are all that's there, And I feel free at last. ------------ what you are is an exceptional poet... (please allow me this one worship)  this poem is amazing Mike, truly man, i love when you when you write like this later cool gator bs/jm |
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bsquirrel
since 2000-01-03
Posts 7855 |
Boy, Butterfly Slippers, *I*'ll guess you liked it: you stuttered the end of your reply.  Thanks for reading and for enjoying. I'll make sure to return the favor tonight. (about time, wouldn't you say?)Mike |
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wayoutwalt Member Elite
since 1999-06-22
Posts 4870TEXAS (it's all big) |
b you always silence me in awe man yuh yuh |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
I found hope here. Thank you. |
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bsquirrel
since 2000-01-03
Posts 7855 |
walt, Always a pleasure. You know, a whole bunch of poets here should get together and meet sometime. Provided you all come to California -- what, you think I'm gonna fly all over the United States and elsewhere? No, YOU do that. Thanks for reading.S'en, Anytime. Mike [This message has been edited by bsquirrel (edited 05-29-2000).] |
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Kit McCallum
Administrator
Member Laureate
since 2000-04-30
Posts 14774Ontario, Canada |
Very thought-provoking verse Mike, I found myself reading it twice ... nicely done. I particularly enjoyed your final verse ... it was a wonderful culmination to complete your thoughts. Best wishes, /Kit |
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Sudhir Iyer Member Ascendant
since 2000-04-26
Posts 6943Mumbai, India : now in Belgium |
The empty chairs are all that's there, And I feel free at last. ..... nice work mike, really enjoyed what you portray here... Regards, sudhir Life is like a painting, That in an art gallery is left hanging, Though many come just to look at it, A very few actually come to enjoy it. |
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Marge Tindal
since 1999-11-06
Posts 42384Florida's Foreverly Shores |
Mike~ I enjoyed this. ~*Marge*~ ~*The pen of the poet never runs out of ink, as long as we breathe.*~ [email protected] |
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bsquirrel
since 2000-01-03
Posts 7855 |
Thanks, all. Mike |
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brian madden Member Elite
since 2000-05-06
Posts 4374ireland |
WOW Bsquirrel, I love the images in this, Their blades play shadows on your face; Your downturned, look-away-from-me face. The air here is cold. But with the sun rising It can be a church. I've set out chairs in the grass, empty Chairs devoid of their warmth. No one sits Except the light from the sun and the wind From the blades. The dulcimer twangs. I am not totally sure as to what the poem is about. I shall read it again, still the emotions are quiet haunting and the images are powerful. great poem. ------------------------ "Isn't it enough to see that a garden is beautiful without having to believe that there are fairies at the bottom of it too? " Douglas Adams. "Here chewing your tail is joy" Richey Edwards "Take nothing but pictures. Leave nothing but footprints. Kill nothing but time". Baltimore Grotto "Do not listen to a word I say Just listen to what I can keep silent" Nicky Wire |
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Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California |
Very stirring poem that touched the inner twang in me. Well done! |
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bsquirrel
since 2000-01-03
Posts 7855 |
brian, It's very private, so the only clues you get from me are the ones already in the poem. Glad you enjoyed.Martie, Just as long as the twang didn't break any strings. Mike |
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Poet deVine
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-26
Posts 22612Hurricane Alley |
Wonderful poem....my heart stopped at the last verse..thank you for sharing this with us..  |
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