with your twenty eyes, you penetrated my breast
lifted me into oblivion (that intricate pattern)
crawling, you never learned to walk
insect-like, caught in a web,
a sticky silken maze, you struggle near the sky
but now that dark is with you (a cloud of dust risen)
and solitude (my shadowy friend) is
a place on the ground, with maybe a picnic blanket
some paper napkins and plastic wine glasses
waiting for my meal to fill them with color
alone is a special place where the shadows
keep me company, eat with me, hold my hand
7 comments:
Holly you have such a way with the image --the "twenty eyes"-- and I like the way you comment with parenthesis in the poem.
Thank you Nathan...this one needed more cohesion, so I revised this morning...I am in "surreal" mode apparently, dream imagery, the real and surreal being confused. I am fascinated by the idea of how subconscious and conscious, reality and surreality get mixed up in our brains.
Oh, I like this poem, the idea
of "objects" waiting to be filled,
by the ultimate animate, so that
they too may have color become
dimensional, and the thought of
a shadow keeping one company,
holding one's hand.
Wondefully creative Holly!
Thank you Cynthia. I appreciate you reading.
really strong piece.....frightening, sad, powerfully done.
Wonderful lines-
a place on the ground, with maybe a picnic blanket
some paper napkins and plastic wine glasses
waiting for my meal to fill them with color
alone is a special place where the shadows
keep me company, eat with me, hold my hand
thank you Jo and Misty...
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