Outside the window buildings twirl into the clouds
Inside are wisps of twisted thought
Up in the skies are throbbing raptor hearts
Inside are thumps of programmed expectancy
Westward are sands that time cannot shift
Inside – the tap, tap, tap of an egg timer
Under the waters coral architects sculpt
Inside are teardrops falling down a drain
Outside the window the world plays against the glass
Inside the sun stops reaching
May you dream while awake…
AnnMarie, you’ve got me with this one. I’m parsing your lines and coming up with sadness, of course (of course), but I’m wondering if this is a feeling of artistic blues, or one of teaching/subbing/ed blues? I hope it’s the latter. The lines are beautifully dark and mysterious, the photo ominous. I’m especially concerned about that darn sun in the last line, though — one needs the sun, all life needs it, for growth, renewal. Hoping that a good night of peaceful dreaming has refreshed your heart.
Just finished cleaning up ye ole abode for Millie and Billy. I’ll be joining them this weekend to go visit my aunt who’s in the hospital.
I wasn’t going to post last night, then the first line kind of just popped into my head while I was sketching. And I thought, let me tap the keys and see what happens…
I wasn’t feeling blue, maybe a tad introspective and tired. All is good and I’m plugging along.
I hope you are as well. And the critters too. And Bob, of course 🙂
We’ve been losing internet over here – I don’t know if it’s due to the frigid weather…but we had no service the entire morning…
Anne-Marie, I really liked this poem. The sounds are quite loud, and I can almost hear that tap dripping, and with it the repetitive, and the never ending domestic routine. Everything outside the window is high, so far out of reach, yet it is happy, free and playful. I really like the imagery, the tenderness and the depth of your words. Beautiful
I thank you for your kindness. I’m not a poet, but it seems of late, words have been sticking in my brain. My old blogcabin’s sink has been a generous receptacle – allowing me a place to pour these words out…
Have a wonderful day. 🙂
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No need to be a poet to write poetry 🙂 inspiration comes when and where it sees fit. It’s night time here, a wonderful day to U too
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