Colors drain,
portraits fade
or crack and dry with time,
this; a rogue's gallery,
a private enterprise.
Cobwebs don
these ancient frames,
worn relics from the past,
the dust and gild-stained fingertips
exposing art's demise.
Author notes
A Shocking Tale Of Horror!
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Comments
1 - 10 of 10
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Very nice, and very sad. You summed up the emotions lovers of art feel when looking at masterpieces of old.
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Nicolai Gogol
wrote a book with this title. That has nothing to do with your poem
I understand in my own way the image of fading portraits, useless, but so hard to dispose of. Sentiment is a trap, burn it all; the only good company is with us now.
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Yes, I've read it.
The only connection that comes off the top of my head is that each gathers dead souls. Gogol's anti-hero collects them for financial gain, I guess mine do so to keep memories, which can do nothing but fade with time....I'm sure there is a gain to be had there too, which keeps him from destroying them. Thanks Margaret.
The Curator, lol
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Slowly they fade, even when we want to hold on to them.
Those I really cherished (memories) don't fade, maybe because I keep them alive by talking about past moments.
Here you show that process of fading memories very well.
I think you got into your best time for writing poetry. Your recent works are great!
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Thank you Madam Goes for the kind words. I guess it's like your Brazilian poets write about...it seems the more honest I try to be the better the poems turn out.
How sad to have a gallery for memories. I like your idea for keeping them alive. If we do that there is no need for the gallery...they stay alive. I shall try.
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I enjoyed this piece immensely, it has an ambiguity to it that lets the reader attach his own sense of art or memory to the words. The oils of a painting fade, the colors less brilliant just as the nuances of memory drift away, leaving the frame of their existence holding a lifetime of emotion. Great work, Hugs, Bunny
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Thanks, excellent observation!
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It is by our own hand when color drains from life through our reactions to events when we then stash them and do not openly deal with them or process the emotions and release them. They hang in the gallery of mind to be reviewed. That's what I got.
This is dark in a different way for you from what I've read thusfar. It sounds like something I might write.
I'll be a very old lady by the time I find all your writings and comment on them. That will be good for you since you like to take money from old ladies
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You'll never be able to read all I write, nor would you want to. I don't even want to! Most of it is pretty bad, just meant for me, or really old stuff.
I like your interpretation. Yes, that fits, there's a little more too, but I like your interpretation.
I can have my moods, sometimes they hit me. I write it then feel better.
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Care to share or does that fall into the "just meant for me" category...which I respect...I'm not being flip.
Writing helps mood swings find middle ground. It does for me too.
There's that "never" word again. If I'm not meant to read it, odds are I won't find it.
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