Open Poetry #15 |
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Separation |
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Master Senior Member
since 1999-08-18
Posts 1867Boston, MA ![]() |
Look at the sunrays, people! Those are her fingers, veering. I am almost ready to leap now toward her from the roof of my building. Look how the sun is crashing on the blade of the glowing horizon! People, I am stoned by this passion, I am lost in light of her eyes now! On the fork of a thousand roads, drunk with the smell of the pines, I wander and hang my sorrowful notes on the nerves of the telephone lines. Hello? Answer me! Anybody? What can extinguish my love’s scorching flame? Every night, waiting for her, I cram my body into the window frame. You, who’ve had a lot to cope with, whose lives have long turned sour and dire, know that the doors of my ribcage are always open, come and sit by the fire! Do you hear the thunder of my whisper? That is my soul on the stage of my tongue. People, I need her, I miss her! In her absence, my body is wrung... I crawl up the stairs, demented, and beheaded, I fall on the bed... Tell me why? I don’t understand it! Why was my heart cast of lead? These walls box me in. Feeling lonely, like a snake, on the mattress, I coil and depression collapses upon me like six feet of the graveyard soil. Burdened by the weight of the silence, I recall from the past, gasping, and abruptly, two overcast eyelids shut at once with a bang of a casket. But even in dreams, I can still see her vision, she appears in the night and remains... and gently, her brief apparition, I catch with the net of my veins. And though, this bliss may appear unending, the night is short, and this dream must cease. She grins at me, -- oh so enchanting, and disappears into the mist... The gray beard of the mist fills the alley, raindrops drum on the bong of my window. Autumn mimics my sweet melancholy and transforms itself into winter. Homeless winds sing from under the bridges, as the morning embraces the land. There, I ramble, feeding the pigeons out of the palm of my hand... Once more, I am one with the landscape. Like the valley, I’m covered with frost. Like the shivering branches, my hands shake Like the trees, I am standing exposed. Have you noticed your son, Mother Nature? In you sight, I still wander perplexed. Separated from love, I am raging, Is it true that the spring will come next? Dejected, I’ve looked high and low, tread the Milky Way, searching for answers, lost my way in the whirlpools of snow, now, I stray here, homeless and senseless. Here, I drift with the winds as I cast my eyes to the skies, starless and bottomless, I can change! Let me sweep the debris of the past under the carpets of puddles. Hey, up there! Do you hear me?! You, angels, hovering up above me, do not lie to me, tell me sincerely, could she possibly learn to love me? [This message has been edited by Master (edited 07-29-2001).] |
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© Copyright 2001 Andrey Kneller - All Rights Reserved | |||
Voiceless Senior Member
since 2001-02-19
Posts 686Under the stars upon the wind |
This poem is Terrific! The imagery is great, the flow excellent, and the question ever pondering! Nicely done!! Freedom is not Free (Korean War memorial) |
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azblond Senior Member
since 1999-07-01
Posts 637The Steamy Desert |
Wow...powerful with a pain so excruciating I can feel it in my very bones. Let my words fall first upon deaf ears before a closed mind... |
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JamesMichael Member Empyrean
since 1999-11-16
Posts 33336Kapolei, Hawaii, USA |
Quite an expression of your disappointments...James |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Quite a while since I've seen one of your stark pieces, Master! Once again you have taken imagery and displayed it well from the point of your pen. Hope we have more, soon! |
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