Your name remains
though you have gone
The number reaches
but not your arm
ear to resin.
I hear your voice
I see your face
Clutch the receiver
connecting to
ethereal digits.
Scroll the list
You are there
remaining present
memory stored
calculated bytes.
I puncture delete
claiming the erasure
Pressing onward
a dark mute note
accepted hollow.
Sunset next
I call your name
I hear your voice
I see your face
tears expunged.
Spaces open
the sunrise here
a valiant burst
of cleansing warmth
a new day…
Robin’s Eyes/Prisma
May you dream from a place of warm memory…
Incomplete sketch published on previous post, fitting for this one.
Advertisements
Ah, bella poesia, AM — so very, very. Love the title (want to steal it, :)), love the poetic structure, the lines, the phrasings — hell, love everything about it! You know, this is my kind of poem/writing, and I could write a post just on your post. So suffice it to say, you may NOT say that you’re not a poet (how’s that for a double-negative). You. Are. A. POET. And I know it! 🙂 And you know I’ve said this before but your art always gets the “eyes” right — I knew this was Williams before I even read the description; perfect. And lastly I’ll just say this for another “woowoo coinkydinky”: before I ever saw that your post popped into my email tonight, I was finishing my post for Wednesday … who’s title is: “Brand New Day …” Too weird!
LikeLike
Hi Deb,
I seem to be in this most bizarre cycle of pseudo word smithing or cobbling together stuff that pops into my head and hitting the return key every so often so the words look like something…I don’t know what I ever think of these things. That’s why it’s so wonderful to get feedback. It helps me establish some sort of barometer for meaning and interpretation – sometimes I know what I’m trying to say – often times I’m not so sure.
Thank you for your always enlightening write backs – I appreciate them more than my eyeglasses 🙂
LikeLike
When you say you “don’t know what [you] ever think of these things,” what I think you mean is that you’re writing from a place of heart, not head. Poetry is the purest expression of emotion, and right now emotion is moving through you more so than rational, logical thought. (Wow! Let me step back a moment — I just blew myself away, LOL!) Seriously though, it’s true. You’re tapping deep into the well and are soul-writing now. You don’t necessarily have to know what you’re trying to say — you’re saying it, and on another level readers are “getting” it. You just need to keep writing it, bringing it forth. So sayeth Deb. 🙂
LikeLike
I knew there was a reason you have advanced degrees 🙂 Thank you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Har-dee-har-har, 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Beautiful artwork Ann. 🙂
LikeLike
Means much coming from you, thank you 🙂
LikeLike