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Open Poetry #32
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The Silence After You Leave
| Open Poetry #32 |
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The Silence After You Leave |
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young_blood Senior Member
since 2003-09-19
Posts 1115Indianapolis, IN 
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The Silence After You Leave These casual rocks have become dear friends As the 400 silent days confronted my eyes. Their smooth, life-weathered faces meet ocean’s end And I forget the obsene highway under the sky. Ah! The sky has tested these stones that never roll, Never blink, never lie, only speaking through the surf. Green moss counts the years in days, waiting for November cold, But for now they weep salt water that burns into the hurt. Deep within a right to understand hides a blush, A rush of bloood that links my thoughts to confusion. That vivid vision matches the fauna described as “lush” Only adds to the tourist guides, such a careful illusion. This quiet place was never mentioned among the “Places To See”, Only deemed unworthy by a board of superfluous men. Secret rainbows embrace my heart with blossoms of beauty And seashells echo back to me the joy of a storm-dance. Sing to me ocean voice and yet listen to my ramblings, Shame sopranos and humble the tenors of this doubtful world. Show them all what strength nature is still commanding, Scream it stunted voicing that melts with languages left unfurled. The unnoticed centuries have yet to change the perfect inflection And the original message boldly stays the same as always. “Goodnight to your worries and away with trouble’s deception” The songs flutter all across the wind in this secluded place. Point Perone, the title I gave this home, shuts its coves, Accepting the rising ocean crowd that praises the black ebb. The weight of their call blasphemies the coral gloves That covers the ocean’s endless hands from the barren depths. The antipathy of the undersea has become revealed to me, Darkness beyond the stars with harps and habitation, Distress and anticipation, love and participation left indiscreet. Nothing so vague as these unuttered words lives in my contemplation. The passion in loneliness overstates the reason I am here, No matter so long as the coherence of thought remains. My speech has, at all appropriate times, become humanly unclear As I lengthen pronunciation to avoid my listener’s disdain. What manner of acceptance has the aquatic body shown? More than discovered language could invent to express. This place truly supercedes initial whispers the wind had blown Upon the Maritime drafts that rarely breath a protest. The graceful gulls ride on the coat tails of lost melodies And whisper their final harmony amidst the colors of afternoon. “Circle, Oh messengers of heaven!” I cry out above the sea, And their musical discussion centers on the rising new moon. So as the night falls upon the blue sky, as is custom, I stroll back to my makeshift home next to a rocky cleft. The fire that was lit hours ago has faded into ember blossoms; Another night to empty the hourglass, 399 silent days left. now im alone, but not lonely like before |
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| © Copyright 2004 Alex Lewis - All Rights Reserved | |||
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LeeJ Member Patricius
since 2003-06-19
Posts 13296 |
What manner of acceptance has the aquatic body shown? More than discovered language could invent to express. This place truly supercedes initial whispers the wind had blown Upon the Maritime drafts that rarely breath a protest. Wow, this is extremely beautiful...bittersweet music written from a very caring heart...what magic you weave! I loved this! |
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ThisDiamond Member Rara Avis
since 2002-02-22
Posts 9353Michigan, USA |
The surf gives and takes the messages to the open sea...the open self...the open heart. Astonishing write. TD |
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young_blood Senior Member
since 2003-09-19
Posts 1115Indianapolis, IN |
thank you both very much for the compliments. this is my first time in the "big leagues" of the open forum. i was in the teen forum for a while, then got tired of it, so i moved here. once again thank you for your gracious comments. -alex |
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young_blood Senior Member
since 2003-09-19
Posts 1115Indianapolis, IN |
anyone else wanna comment? please |
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