“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Wednesday, February 5, 2020
Should've asked first...
We were connected
to each others gaze
and more
deeply, once
we wished would last for-
ever.
Remember
with me
conversations, deeply
endless opportunity
being
together only-
beginnings.
I know
that was then,
but I do not know
when this
is-
more endings.
True, I only speak
most
honestly in poetry.
Saying more
than I could other-
wise.
I only ask
now, how we changed
focus-frequently
away...
Don't answer,
I won't repeat.
The blue-lit face,
red cheeks, empty windows
and presence-
elsewhere, I try to focus
on something
as intangible and
deeply infinite,
as sky only to resist
the falling atmosphere.
It is my fault.
I should've asked
you if you think
we get what we deserve
always?
Painting by Philip Hermogenes Calderon (1833-1898), 'Her eyes are with her heart' c. 1881, in Pubic Domain.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Ebb and Flow
The seagull shrieking in the near distance is the cry of my heart for the sea I so long to be near once again. The puffy slanted clouds ar...

-
We know more about people we've never known than ever before. Before now, you did not know who you did not know, and who you ...
-
When I wonder do we first think we Are welcome to the world? From the abyss of a watery womb we hear outside of Us w...
-
Today seems like a good day to burn a bridge or two. The sky resembles a backlit canopy with holes punched in it. In California...
No comments:
Post a Comment