On this rainy cold morning,
the echoes are endless
as the dim and paled leaves
careen down around me
and tickle and itch my shoulders.
I love the way colours bleed together
as though they were flesh and bone.
I've learned to love the wind
while it whispered and teased my ears
cradling me, then letting me go.
When summer decides to die
and fall follows suit,
I'm easily distracted
by the simplest of thoughts.
I'd like to paint a portrait
for my love but I have no brush
and his face is becoming a blur,
sliding onward, without me
resembling the day the rocks cried
and shook our house
in the barren desert heat
'till it was level with the ground.
And it's now that I imagine
life without the ability
to portray, as it has as of late
been more of a weight than
anything.
I close the shutters of my eyes
to see all the little pinpricks waving
the sunset romanticising tanned skin,
leaving prints on my retinas
fazing and skimming the rushed human edges
of a frame I may never know.
I'm stretching and thinning
until I can reach,
until I can slide between,
until all that vibrates my molecules
are the mosquitoes
trapped in the slanted light fixtures,
humming and buzzing
of the sweetness they’ve tasted.
My mother always told me
my blood must be like candy.
It was special, a carrier of fruit.
And through a future me
I heard my baby girl asking
if I could paint her a pretty picture.
and my hand, shaking,
could only draw a blank.
Author notes
I wrote this a long time ago but took so much off and added a lot on. I'm not sure about the title for this. Any suggestions would be wonderful.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 9 of 9
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hey synth
you seemed to able to capture very deep periods of reflection that almost border on the sub-conscience/conscience mind, and the way the self reacts to the enviornment. a higher piece of writing.
dave -
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hey dave :)
I'm glad that you feel it captures such since I certainly aimed for it to have that feel.
Thanks
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Great.
This was a great read. I had many different images come to mind as reading this. When you were talking about blood being so sweet, i thought of vampires and how they are attracted to special types of blood. i dont know if you were making that connection or not but this was a great read.
good job
--Tori
language: 5, rhythm: 5, subject: 5, tone: 5, form: 5.
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Hey Tori
Thankyou for reading and commenting.
And you know, the vampire idea wasn't quite a part of it but I certainly thought of it while I was writing it. I'm obsessed with vampires so it did cross my mind.
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odd
The line about
colors bleeding together is scary.
blood seems to be evident and like candy is yucky and I am in a maze.
The baby girl must be disappointed.
Death reeks.
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Synth, this is incredible.
So much poetry is contrived and feels dead, very little emotion transfers to the reader as it is lost in translation through literary inadequacy or overdue care in writing. Good writing is like what you describe here: love. It just happens and out pours your heart unceremoniously into the hands of your chosen recipient, not caring so much what occurs so long as you have spoken your heart. That's what has happened here and I gotta say this callous ass could really feel your intense sense of loss. When so young the universe of our soul is a black hole of emotion and often it seems that nothing will ever escape it. No light of day seems to penetrate when we fall into our own personal depths and we feel life slipping away, much as the fading light you describe.
This is incredibly powerful and jumps off the page into reality to the point that I feel your sense of loss, abandonment, bereavement, and utter feeling of futility at ever knowing the same again. Again, I must say, this was incredible. You got mad skills. That, and you feel with incredible intensity, or rather, you are able to convey that intensity through written word. You got my vote for all-powerful poetess at present.
Al
language: 5, rhythm: 5, subject: 5, tone: 5, form: 5.
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:)
Thank you so much, Al for such a lovely comment, it really is appreciated. I'm glad that you picked up on the personal take of this and my emotional state of reflection at the time especially. You are quite right on what you say. Some days my soul does feel like a black hole and I might not want to pick myself up but thank goodness I've had the sense to ignore that 'cause I would have been finished a while ago.
Again, thankyou Al, your words made me feel lots better.
Kristin
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This artist faces a blank canvas...
...wondering, although her "blood must be like candy...a carrier of fruit", whether or not she can summon up her inner life and be able to "portray" her outer life. Wonderful. This poem, Kristin, is, I believe, among your most complex, yet it breathes, for me, a clarity so perceptive that it can "slide between...all that vibrates her molecules...", in spite of her doubts about being able to do that in words. No question, she's done it.
The first three stanzas set the scenery for this inner drama, summer sliding into fall, complete with that "desert" tumult that distanced her from the home out there and in herself. Then come doubts about even painting her lover, slowly blurring away. Finally, her pondering that future "baby girl", who I see as a past image of herself, wanting, needing a self-created vision of her world.
Besides all that loveliness, it just pleases me no end that you use rhyme in your work, which many poets avoid like plague. Poetry devoid of rhyme, whether in its words or vowels or consonants or word-feel, leaves me rather cold. Your stuff warms me up.
A mere thought: I wonder if placing the second stanza first might work a bit better to slide the reader into the background of your inner drama? Disregard that at will if you don't think so.
A very fine read for me, as usual, Kristin.
Lad -
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Thankyou, Lad...
...for your insightful comment and for understanding every key point and feeling I tried to put into this.
Getting a review from you has become something I look forward to the most.
And I think your right...switching the first and second stanza would benefit the poem better and give it a stronger introduction. Thankyou for that as well I'll get to it.
Kristin
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