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A home without a wall, |
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| How to Join | Member's Area | Private Library | Search | Sanctuary | Login | |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Main Forums | Discussion | Tech Talk | Mature Content | Archives |
A home without a wall, |
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| Open Poetry #13 |
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The Art Of Ashes |
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SpitFire Member Elite
since 2000-04-19
Posts 2396
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The Art Of Ashes She came to me, tender, silently stepping her way into my space, sipping cream in dreams and handfuls of stone. Her voice unrolled the truth alone, positioned it in the glare - blinding. Our reflections burning in it’s whisper, the tempered moment real. She carried wisdom in tiny pouches and wore every minute on her face. Somehow, I knew not to fear what stood before me then, she seemed to warm the afternoon in ways I’d loved. And the oils on my skin were shining and the rest of the world seemed gray. She passed a thousand antique trees along the way - just to get to where I was, trailed her way through thick. I could not speak of glass jars teasing, or ashes blowing in the wind. They tumbled there in dance around where we stood, twirling their flaking danger. Testing whatever those stones claimed. Taunting me wild with their cries. Silent! It was the silence, I believe, that spoke the loudest, or the age in her hands that made me want to cry. And I think we were inside of a photograph - speaking. Without any words exchanged. Without any reason for them anyway. |
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| © Copyright 2001 SpitFire - All Rights Reserved | |||
Marge Tindal 
since 1999-11-06
Posts 42384Florida's Foreverly Shores |
SpitFire~ This is one of your most intriguing pieces to me. 'It was the silence, I believe, that spoke the loudest, or the age in her hands that made me want to cry. And I think we were inside of a photograph - speaking. Without any words exchanged. Without any reason for them anyway.' You are an amazing writer, gal. ~*Marge*~ ~*The pen of the poet never runs out of ink, as long as we breathe.*~ |
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
Her voice unrolled the truth alone, positioned it in the glare - blinding. Our reflections burning in it’s whisper, the tempered moment real. She carried wisdom in tiny pouches and wore every minute on her face. Somehow, I knew not to fear what stood before me then, she seemed to warm the afternoon in ways I’d loved. ============================== It was the silence, I believe, that spoke the loudest, or the age in her hands that made me want to cry. And I think we were inside of a photograph - speaking. Without any words exchanged. Without any reason for them anyway. ========================== this poem is so layered and so cool and so intense.. and so full of soft spoken wisdom and subtlties... you write way beyond your years A, ... because you have lived the lessons more than most your age I am sure... "Our reflections burning in it’s whisper, the tempered moment real." "She carried wisdom in tiny pouches and wore every minute on her face." "or the age in her hands that made me want to cry. And I think we were inside of a photograph - speaking. Without any words exchanged." what an amazing collection of lines those are.. the imagery and the truth and respect that lie in them.. this poem reminds me of a moment exchanged between me and my grandmother once again you blow me away with your writing girlie.  I love your imperfections ... I love your everything ... |
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Sven
since 1999-11-23
Posts 14937East Lansing, MI USA |
I am always amazed at your writing SpitFire. . . it speaks and talks at the same time. . . excellent. . .  ------------------------------------------------------------- To the world, you may only be one person. But to one person, you may be the world. |
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Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California |
SpitFire--Amazing the way you make words from feeling and put them together so intricautely yet so tender that I can hear your heart beat. |
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ethome Member Patricius
since 2000-05-14
Posts 11858New Brunswick Canada |
"She came to me, tender, She carried wisdom in tiny pouches She passed a thousand antique trees along the way - And I think we were inside of a photograph - speaking. Without any words exchanged. Without any reason for them anyway." Very deep evocative writing...the rest being excellent also! Wonderful style! I really enjoyed the write! |
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SpitFire Member Elite
since 2000-04-19
Posts 2396 |
~Marge, it's always a joy to have you visit. And what you've left behind has lifted me in ways. Thank you much. ~And you JM, spoil me. How very sweet of you to see so far, and to leave me with such words. ~Sven, again, thank you for stopping in, and for continuously saying that you are amazed? Oh my! ~Martie, I treasure your input, for I believe that you see things. And saying that you can hear my heart beat through the words, what a reply! Thank you. ~Ethome, thank you truly for coming by and feeling what you have. So pleased to have had you read. *Thanks. All-a-ya! *Peace Poets. |
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Dark Angel Member Patricius
since 1999-08-04
Posts 10095 |
Breathless I am you make me hold my breath "And I think we were inside of a photograph - speaking" WOW! speechless. adding YOU to my library Maree [This message has been edited by Dark Angel (edited 05-27-2001).] |
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Watersign6 Senior Member
since 2001-05-25
Posts 823Hurricane,WV |
Spitfire,this is absolutely wonderful,adding it to my library |
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Dark Angel Member Patricius
since 1999-08-04
Posts 10095 |
I'm so glad I came across this amazing piece again. I remember how it made me feel when I read it last time for I feel the same reading it again. You make me sigh A. Maree |
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passing shadows Member Empyrean
since 1999-08-26
Posts 45577displaced |
just amazing! |
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Dark Angel Member Patricius
since 1999-08-04
Posts 10095 |
Yup.. totally amazing, still makes me sigh. Have you any dreams you'd like to sell? |
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