I looked upon your face again,
I saw the face I loved.
I saw the person I no longer knew.
I closed the door.
And that, was that.
Do clouds get lonely? Do they weep,
When they stray from the storm?
Does the dresser drawer squeak
To mourn the stand from whence it was stripped?
Are the fish missing their chums
If sharks attack to split the school?
Sheep will bleat, the wolf will howl,
During detachment from their flock or pack.
Loneliness creeps in and settles like a fog.
Rise and fall, rise and fall, rise and fall
Her chest should be like an empire — rise and fall.
But lungs no longer expand; no heart beats.
Bum-bum, bum-bum, bum-bum
The heart-drum should count off the cadence.
But no pulsing thrum, no sigh of exhalation.
And yet, I thought I saw her breathing in the mist upon the glass.
So, I’ve revived the spirit of my old Mass Mosaic tile that lead to a lot of the poems you’ll find if you explore my site. I posted in a FaceBook Group of like-minded people and they flooded me with poetry prompts! I love it!
Any poems that will be posted that are/were a result of such prompt will be released into the public domain and credit will be acknowledged for the prompts where applicable. (Some prompters may wish to use pseudonyms or otherwise remain anonymous.)
The idea is that when I have collected enough of my poems (regardless of origin) I’ll publish them as a collected work, possibly featuring some of my photography.
This post is a little different. Rather than starting with the poem then giving notes, the notes come first, poem after the break.
This is a poem I wrote a while back, not sure when, probably within the past 2 years. It came to me as a song though. It has a folky ballad kind of sound. That’s another distinguishing feature to this post, I don’t write songs, I’m not terribly musically inclined.
The melody is somewhat inspired by the song “The Greatest Adventure” by Glen Yarborough as featured in the cartoon version of The Hobbit (from 1977).
At least one verse doesn’t flow with the melody well…I messed up on the meter somewhere.
I sang it tonight, for the first time ever, aloud, and in front of people. I think I need to fix the wonky verse, maybe tweak the order a little, the record it … and have someone who can write music put a backing track to it…maybe. Or maybe it’ll stay a capella. If I’m not terribly self-conscious after I get it recorded I’ll post here by way of YouTube…but that might never happen either.
This piece of work is also different from the rest of the work I’ve published here so far in the license, it’s CC-BY-NC — Creative Commons; Attribution; No Commercial.
Basically it means that you are welcome to take it and do whatever you like with it, with two caveats: 1: You can’t sell it, or what you create from it. 2: You have to give me credit for the original work.
button encrusted, denim warmth-giver
no leather. no letter. no ring.
just a temporary gift to cut the chill
psychedelic, groovy foot-thumper
no mush. no promise. no expectations.
just an album shared
days roll into weeks; weeks — years; years to a lifetime.
and still I never could.
strangers become friends; friends — lovers ; and love is forever.
but I never could.
heart sends words; words — mouth; mouth stays silent.
because I never could.
I never could.
I never should.
…I never would…
silence to words; words to paper; paper to you.
strangers to friends; friends to strangers; then back again.
a lifetime rolls back into days.
And I Was.
One day we were.
And then we weren’t.
And I wanted to cry.
I still was.
But you were not.
And you became relegated to the recesses of my mind.
And I forgot to cry.
One day I found you again.
And we were again.
But you weren’t you. And I wasn’t me.
So we weren’t us anymore.
So I cried.
And I still am.
Alone, my thoughts, my fears envelop me.
Awake, asleep, at work — without you there.
I reminisce; the memories abound,
True, some have fled, but eyes yet see your face;
I still can smell your hair — your scent — your tea.
If you ask me how I’m doing;
If you wonder how I’m feeling;
I will lie to you.
I’ll tell you I’m fine.
Things are going OK.
I might hint at the truth of the matter.
I might stumble through my words.
I might give you a half-truth.
I might give you a non-answer.
But I’ll probably never tell you the truth.
I’m not fine.
Things are not OK.
I’m drowning in fear and worry.
You probably ask because you care.
But I am not capable of believing it.
Because I don’t care. So how could you?
We are all conditioned to hear these questions as small talk.
We are all conditioned to respond in kind.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Yeah, nothing much.”