the life that's left behind curtains
and closed doors seems hollow
a pristine vase resting upon ideals
long forgotten by those who wish
to send it crashing back into reality
where winds rustle trees and shatter
leaves into exquisite piles of
the beautifully dead
an awakening to the bitter taste of
lost time and meaning hides behind
your smile, i can sense it
as it traces through your body
leaving despair and weaving it
into the depths of your new moon eyes
i'm not pretending anymore, are you?
Author notes
it's been a long few days, and i'm feeling restless
this is as last-minute as they come.
A contest entry
- The Sky is Alive by sweetpearl.
2975 points, ended July 29, 2007, 26 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
This interests me a lot. It reminds me of people who pretend their entire lives to benefit others ... and quite possibly themselves. But to really live is to live your own life, which means no pretending. It read quite quickly, my favourite parts are:
"where winds rustle trees and shatter
leaves into exquisite piles of
the beautifully dead"
--you may know why. I love everything to do with death. This makes it seem tragic and gorgeous at the same time. Leaves can be feelings ... our tree colours, sheds, grows them again. When our tree dies and no leaves return ... it's still beautiful, it's why photographers capture dead trees amongst living ones. I guess we await to be chopped down? Our burial is the destruction of what's left? Not sure ... it's morning so forgive my crazy thoughts.
"leaving despair and weaving it
into the depths of your new moon eyes"
--love the wording here. It feels so real. I just generally loved this piece and restlessness is annoying, no doubt but no worries that it's last minute because I adored it.
Adding your comment:
