Saturday, March 3, 2012

Do Not Laminate . . .

The rumpled edges of my train pass
                          speaks of many voyages . .
the dirt that clings,                    
                the smudges that blur,
and the shiny heart       
that once embraced a              
            street light glow,
and amber lights
                  like quasi suns
with halos and darts
spattered bright         
              and lamentations of
 semi-permanence . . . .


Inside of me is a hollow woman,
ravenous and filled with desire. . .            
hungry for a universe,        
longing for a world
that lights up beneath the song
of existence. . .
as nothing is much more than             
a whisper in the wind          
a teardrop in the rain;
I close my eyes                 
and there is the shadow of an
 abyss and                
nothing but the music    
with an echoing refrain . . .

If all I have . . .           
is myself
                      without a heart
or an umbrella . . .
to ward off the storm . . .
of fire . . .                    
and if all I am
       is the frame of myself
made of metal,                 
rusted and dented
yet seeking             
the fragile. . .
              If all I saw
was emptiness
and loneliness. . .          
the world a whiteness,
              no mountain peaks,     
nor ocean depths . . .
                 If all I heard
was silence. . .                 
the whisper of nothing

I would never know
to say good-bye
I would never know



Van Syla said...

Another beautiful and deep poem !
The pictures you chose to illustrate your words are so expressive !
Thank you Barb )

CŒDES Pierre-Marie said...

Very nice and profound minded poem Barb.