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Open Poetry #33
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The "Thing" or "Things"
| Open Poetry #33 |
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The "Thing" or "Things" |
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Honeybunch Member Rara Avis
since 2001-12-29
Posts 7115South Africa 
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Measured in terms of my need to know and ensconced behind my limited focus stands an emperor, king, or merely “a thing” with an eyeglass attached to my soul. The “thing” or “things” seem not to be real, too busy they are building pyramids there, and devising a plan for continued disease to aid the survival of those deemed to rise further onward and up to true ecstasy. For pleasure they sketch little boxes and squares and rub out a space to let the light in then wave it face down over red candles to antique the edges so we cannot know we really are young though seemingly old. Like star lights perhaps of dreams, fantasies, they flitter about when everything’s quiet and creep into a brain to draw in a triangle for the plain and simple pleasure of change. And they pocket the change for their own ends or maybe to mend the holes in a soul but sometimes the pins, needles, and thread, are forgotten inside and hurt till we’re dead. Little boxes are good; we’re happy in there provided no spaces are ever rubbed out and for squares the same but only the brave are content with no roof over their heads. The “thing” or “things” sometimes can sing and celebrate love, life, happiness. They sometimes can cry fat, ugly, tears that never can move from the brim of an eye till the sketch comes alive to spirit life. They’re abusive and use their poor human tools as anger and hate and intolerance but when in good humour they take us to love then march us away to the beat of a drum. They’re musicians, you see, playing the fool always and only … because they can! |
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| © Copyright 2004 Helen - All Rights Reserved | |||
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BluesSerenade Member Patricius
since 2001-10-23
Posts 10549By the Seaside |
Always so good to read you Helen, what a fabulous poem, especially this, For pleasure they sketch little boxes and squares and rub out a space to let the light in then wave it face down over red candles to antique the edges so we cannot know we really are young though seemingly old. Loving it! |
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iliana Member Patricius
since 2003-12-05
Posts 13434USA |
Helen, great poem. In some way, it makes me think of the Matrix.  .....jo |
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Broken Member
since 2000-03-12
Posts 271The woods |
What a great poem Honeybunch. "Like star lights perhaps of dreams, fantasies, they flitter about when everything’s quiet and creep into a brain to draw in a triangle for the plain and simple pleasure of change." ~Broken~ "Base not your joy upon the deeds of others, for what is given can be taken away." |
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Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California |
Helen "but when in good humour they take us to love then march us away to the beat of a drum." Love always touches your poems in one way or another...I'm glad it does...it helps me with my questions and answers. |
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Honeybunch Member Rara Avis
since 2001-12-29
Posts 7115South Africa |
Thank you all so much for your replies but, in view of what has been written, I perhaps can take no credit for it. And Martie - Love is the beginning and ending and we're lucky if we can put it somewhere in between. |
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