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Open Poetry #30
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Patterns in the glass
| Open Poetry #30 |
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Patterns in the glass |
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bsquirrel
since 2000-01-03
Posts 7855
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What are pictures anyway? Patterns in the glass. They crack, they fold, they crumble. Discolored memory. They tint the sky to yellow. They brush dirt on your face. They never melt the snow. You hover on my wall, seeing out and sightless. I brush my hand across your capture. No nearer to you now. Frames are fallen leaves. I open one thick book, an album's worth of film. Of what exactly? Who's to say what songs you wavered out that day. I'll let them leave. Formality of playing cards, sun-spinning motes. Changing through long years of keys, they never change at all. These inked-back sliver messages, notes that stick and stain. Ready as a breath to blow dried dandelion seeds. Empty fields of sunlight. Rows of chairs are empty. All those spaces photographed haunted by our absence. The words are wrapped in twine and left boxed in the attic. What are pictures anyway? That is something we would say. |
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| © Copyright 2003 MPC - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Gosh Michael..you leave the reader with so much to think about! I love that..to sit back and read again..enjoyed this piece! Hugs~ ~I've loved you forever, in lifetimes before~ |
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the_loner_23 Member Ascendant
since 2002-06-08
Posts 5479Jacksonville, Florida, USA |
yes this leaves much to ponder. But I troughly enjoyed it. Cold hands means a warm heart |
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Lost Dreamer Member Elite
since 1999-06-20
Posts 2464Somewhere near the Rainbow |
Very interesting poem indeed. Glad I happened upon it tonight.  Sometimes we have to follow a stronger voice, even if it's silent. |
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bsquirrel
since 2000-01-03
Posts 7855 |
Thank you. |
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passing shadows Member Empyrean
since 1999-08-26
Posts 45577displaced |
*...thinking...* |
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wranx Member Elite
since 2002-06-07
Posts 3689Moved from a shack to a barn |
Squirrel dude? I've read a bunch of you, and believe this to be one of the very best. Or, perhaps it's just that I could see so many of my own pictures in this. Awesome, in any case. |
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Duncan Member Ascendant
since 2001-08-07
Posts 5455 |
"They never melt the snow. You hover on my wall, seeing out and sightless. I brush my hand across your capture. No nearer to you now. Frames are fallen leaves." and "Empty fields of sunlight. Rows of chairs are empty. All those spaces photographed haunted by our absence. The words are wrapped in twine and left boxed in the attic. What are pictures anyway? That is something we would say." Yep, got the pictures...in boxes with other assorted tools of self-torture...  Excellent write Mike. Glad I stopped by. |
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bsquirrel
since 2000-01-03
Posts 7855 |
Glad you all enjoyed, and got something from this. m |
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