Close your eyes. Give birth to the night,
all its hidden wounds, all of its sounds,
like the moon slicing the ocean
with an aria of light on water.
Be still my sister.
Let the night carry you,
caress your lips to silence,
soothe your desire to speak.
Breath in the infrangible distance.
You are a woman who passes by like the lunar flower,
igniting the desert with the white light of life,
bringing life to the stone that hangs in my chest.
Your voice in the night bears a fever.
Elusory flesh diminishes.
Memory dims to ember,
and the mirror clouds with remorse.
Untitled
28 Tuesday May 2013
Posted poems
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How to you expect your readers to make sense of a poem that has no title? The title should at least give a little clue. I work lots of puzzles and am very good at following clues.
I did find one line ( and don’t I always? 🙂 ) that I understood all too well.
“Memory dims to ember”
I don’t even have any ashes left. 😦
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Titled or not each reader will bring her own experience and interpretation to a poem…sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t and that’s okay…and your embers are quite lively indeed.
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indeed, a rose by no name at all still smells as sweet.
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Yes, you are right.
And many thanks to our host for his kindness and patience!
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just beautiful, ron…breathtaking.
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thank you…as always i appreciate it.
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Ditto – really beautiful imagery and language. “Elusory flesh” will stay with me for awhile.
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Thank you Lauren. Your good opinion means a lot to me.
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Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. So much said with so few, but exceptionally well chosen words. Sigh. You do inspire 🙂
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…and the mirror clouds with remorse.
What a perfect ending.
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