they are not you
they are not your eyes, your face
your polygraph.
the lines perhaps are real
I have touched and felt them move
one hundred times
when I watched you squat the flies.
all files have been deleted since
the troubadour of song came
belly fat. shape and form
on the edge of tricks
thin fingers on the sad bone's piccolo.
electric-candlelight his nemesis
his rack of lamb no stronger than
his treasure trove of coins believed now dead
his hunt for red. black nylon. oyster shell.
beneath the stairs
eggs-benedict a better tasting mood
now my poise becomes a veil. a crooked plum
with skin that tastes of something. nothing new
I am only here for the music and the yarn
now the black rook reels me in. a heaving carp.
by what design? a headstone for a heart?
or a poet laureate
all out of faith?
-
Author:
Melvin James (Pseudonym) (
Online) - Published: July 15th, 2024 11:06
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 43
- Users favorite of this poem: Teddy.15, Bella Shepard
Online)
Comments5
Dearest Melvin, I saw the entire burial. I also felt profound loneliness wondering what it's all about. š¹
heavy rain on a quiet afternoon of photographs Teddy.
a wandering mind as always, and yes.....
wondering what it's all about.
thank you my friend.
That's truly remarkable to put it into this poetry. Kudos my dear friend. When it rains in summer that can also catch us off guard. š¹
the black rook reels me in
The mood here is heavy in this piece with perhaps thoughts of those now departed. I read several times. You create an ambience of quiet, solemn reflection. I find your poetic expression always refreshingly original Melvin. Thank you for sharing.
and thank you reading, and your most kind comment Cassie.
thoughts of one departed....bless her.
Iām so sorry for your loss.
A very poignant š¢
and evocative
poetic pictorial,
strong feelings
and thoughts
eloquently penned
my friend! š
Best regards āļø. Thad
thank you Thad.
most kind.
'sad bone's piccolo" - great
thank you for dropping by Dan.
As life changes us, and time reshapes our form, we often drift to thoughts of the past, and what was once, but is no more. It can't be helped, it is our human way. There is a sad and yet beautiful sentiment in the way you have phrased this poem, who else could have done it but you.
and but for her, my words would not exist.
and it still hurts....and always will.
thank you Bella.
a very touching comment.
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