Sleek slanted cardio-graphic
scroll through pathways
littering my mind.
Seeking the exit, to be born
upon a world of white,
as they twirl upon a vacant stage
bringing a sigh to life,
like the first breathe of breeze
that stirs the drapes in casual ‘hello’.
No hourglass can control
these sands that fall from thoughts,
or lips whisper love
more sensual than inhaled emotions,
for beauty is so much more
than the depth of covering.
Author notes
"A poet looks at the world the way a man looks at a woman."
~Wallace Stevens, Opus Posthumous, 1957
A contest entry
- If You Love....Being A Poet by poet2angels.
650 points, ended July 22, 2008, 14 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Critique Requested
Comments
-
Outstanding metaphor in the first stanza, of heart waves being inscribed on a scroll being like poetry "seeking the exit, to be born upon a world of white."
Nice description of writing "bringing a sigh to life."
I'm not sure I follow the first parts of the third stanza--by design, an hourglass does control flow, and only thus functions as a timepiece. Usually, I don't think of thoughts as having a component of falling sand. And I'm not sure what emotions one usually inhales (tho' sometimes scents trigger memories)?
A strong conclusion that invites the reader to ponder, "beauty is so much more than the depth of covering." Refering back to the first stanza, the heart that is being 'traced' is in the middle of the chest. Are you saying that sometimes the beauty in our souls has difficulty finding expression because it is covered over with protecting barriers, or perhaps that words are often inadequate to give expression to such beauties?
I particularly enjoyed the outstanding metaphor in the first stanza!
-
-
Thank you for your comment, to extend what I hoped to potray in the third stanza, I was hoping to show that a poet has so many ideas that they can not be contained or controlled within a confined space such as an hour-glass, they have to be allowed to cascade freely. I feel we inhale emotions all the time .. the scent of a loved one in the morning always seems to be different from any other person we know, is it the love that makes them different, adds some emotional 'scent'.
I think that I, personally, struggle sometimes to write what is in my heart, my head tells me the words to use but no matter how I use them they seem inadequate to what I am feeling .. now that probably is just due to my own lack of vocabulary
Take care
-
-
As I read this, I could see the words dancing and forming across the page
"as they twirl upon a vacant stage
bringing a sigh to life,
like the first breathe of breeze
that stirs the drapes in casual ‘hello’."
Sometimes, I read a poem, and sigh a soft sound, but this one was rather different...more like I was swept off my feet out of my world and into your words.....
WOW
Lynda
Adding your comment:
