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Leaning on the fence

Leaning on the fence, a blush of smile colours my face,
Flooding the cheeks and eyes from a simple movement of the lips, like this.

My whisper hangs, suspended in the air before me;
white as those spider webs, wet with the dew, I turn away.

Warm breath dissolves into nothingness like everything, with time.

But thoughts… it lingers on.

Rippling and breaking like the surface of a puddle, somehow, it settles and nothing’s really changed.
My own face, smiling back at me, from that simple movement, like this, like this.
I laugh at me at me I laugh and thoughts spin, caught in the wind. Caught thoughts, flapping like frantic birds with clipped wings. Never stopping flapping, the noise fills my head and I shake it. Splash!

Upon my page I find the broken pieces dropped as words and phrases: lost fractions of truths I cannot find. Meaningless in being and therefore shouting meaning to the world for sometimes there is beauty, not in the being, but the hole.

Author notes

Not really a poem, but a piece of writing.

Please tell me what you think

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Comments


  • PerfectTonight
    October 28, 2007

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    I thought this was a very beautiful piece. I was a little lost with the meaning, but I loved the wording and imagery. Can't wait to read more!

    . Rewarded 4

  • luvdrkchocolate
    October 28, 2007

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    Oh. This is a nice little poem that you have written here. I like this. It does sound like it's not completely poetry but maybe like half prose? I don't think that's a bad thing. It had a lost kind of feel to it like you were always reaching for that something but it just wasn't real enough for you to hold onto? I don't know. Maybe I'm way off but that's how it sounded to me. I thought you did a good job of expressing yourself.

    • leakypen
      November 2, 2007
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      Yes, you're right, about the fact that I was reaching for something. I think what I was reaching for was meaning and purpose. It's so easy to sugar language and make it sound nice and beautiful, just as it's easy to make life appear meaningful and yet, in the end, do these appearences just make it harder to see the real? Maybe, as I try to suggest here, the beauty is in what isn't there. Thank you for your comment, I really appreciate it.