Running through the fields of obscurity,
where roses grow wild in more shades
than the sunset can manage in an evening,
I hear the voice of my lover, as in dreams,
where he has a thousand different faces,
but only one, sweet touch…
I break the silence in my mind like an egg
against the edge of a ceramic bowl;
one crack and infinity is abandoned,
tossed to the sharks, slowly circling
in the dark waters of Dream’s ocean.
I guide my musings like a wayward ship,
back to careful thoughts of a man
I have promised to love a million times,
before I wake to find my words
spread like pollen across a forest of imaginings.
Daylight burns softly on my skin
and hope becomes nothing more
than a metallic taste upon my tongue.
My coffee gets cold as my mind slowly
winds back into the rhythm of reality,
where love is only a beautiful ideal
and I am but its searching slave.
In a list
A contest entry
- Give me your best... by Jack22.
600 points, ended April 11, 2008, 22 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
-
Amazing write...I like the slow easy mood you captured here with the perfect word selection creating great images...until the end. Good thing for our dreams though...for without them we might not have any GREAT MOMENTS.
-
bravo
So wistful and dreamlike, intriging and full of fine poetical images throughout... I liked this a great deal... bravo... bravo...
-
"I break the silence in my mind like an egg
against the edge of a ceramic bowl;
one crack and infinity is abandoned,
tossed to the sharks, slowly circling
in the dark waters of Dream’s ocean."
very creative poetry...sad ending...sometimes love can feel like this..yes...like we are its slave.
-
I think we all can relate Very good write!
Jack
-
dynamo transition
"where he has a thousand different faces,
but only one, sweet touch…
I break the silence in my mind like an egg
against the edge of a ceramic bowl;"
the langorous space you jump through into that cracking stop was simply stunning;
also--
"hope becomes nothing more
than a metallic taste upon my tongue."
funny how some are averted, and others inclined, to
the taste of a metal teaspoon on the tongue.
Odd way to hold hope, don't you think?
-
Wow
The search, The wonder the longing. The imagery and metaphor in this is very strong. You did a great job with this. This piece reminds me an awful lot of a woman who I talked to for a very long time but things never worked out for us. It was almost sureal how strong the thoughts dreams and memories were. Your piece brought me back there indeed.
Adding your comment:
1 - 6 of 6
