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- Vermont
- Website
- robynflatley.blogspot.com
poetry anyone?
- Thread starter Ganesha
- Start date
Picture taken.
Caught in your innocence,
frozen,
child forever,
you lean there
against a red bicycle,
one hand waving
as if you knew
even then
that too soon
goodby
would be forever.
Caught in your innocence,
frozen,
child forever,
you lean there
against a red bicycle,
one hand waving
as if you knew
even then
that too soon
goodby
would be forever.
- Joined
- Feb 25, 2006
- Messages
- 2,018
- Reaction score
- 417
- Location
- Vermont
- Website
- robynflatley.blogspot.com
I close my eyes
you are there before me
I close my mind
thoughts fly freely
I close the door
flies are trapped
too late everything opens
I must take my leave
floundering in the now
we come to our self
the I -
I can't recognize
is me
you are there before me
I close my mind
thoughts fly freely
I close the door
flies are trapped
too late everything opens
I must take my leave
floundering in the now
we come to our self
the I -
I can't recognize
is me
- Joined
- Apr 12, 2005
- Messages
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She found the old photo
in a maple frame
And it occurred to her
that visitors would know her
as she never was:
in a maple frame
And she worried
that she might spend her life
in search of a proper circumstance
in which to die
in a maple frame
And it occurred to her
that visitors would know her
as she never was:
in a maple frame
And she worried
that she might spend her life
in search of a proper circumstance
in which to die
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Eternal reflection
spun from webs of light,
captured
like slips of paper
caught between
sleeves of wood.
Self-portrait.
spun from webs of light,
captured
like slips of paper
caught between
sleeves of wood.
Self-portrait.
And photos, sepia-toned,
become but mirror twins,
and twins entwine,
become each other
after all.
Forlorn remembrance,
a father torn
and mother scorched,
child reborn.
The hectic circle,
life, the wheel,
in mirrored memory,
like laughter
caught in glass,
a pool of time
captured,
sweet, divine,
with life
looking on,
a history to pen
with ink and tears,
the quiet sorrow
of going, gone.
become but mirror twins,
and twins entwine,
become each other
after all.
Forlorn remembrance,
a father torn
and mother scorched,
child reborn.
The hectic circle,
life, the wheel,
in mirrored memory,
like laughter
caught in glass,
a pool of time
captured,
sweet, divine,
with life
looking on,
a history to pen
with ink and tears,
the quiet sorrow
of going, gone.
relativity defined
that time and space are one
each framed event a snapshot
mere distance
misnamed "done"
relatives all captured
by definition ours
each passing soul a target
for snares of troth
and hours
relayed our memories
relied our rationales
replayed our aspirations
retold our best regales
unknown the once explorer
unseen in current stride
underplumbed the wisdom
whose times betray the hide
that time and space are one
each framed event a snapshot
mere distance
misnamed "done"
relatives all captured
by definition ours
each passing soul a target
for snares of troth
and hours
relayed our memories
relied our rationales
replayed our aspirations
retold our best regales
unknown the once explorer
unseen in current stride
underplumbed the wisdom
whose times betray the hide
Last edited:
- Joined
- Feb 25, 2006
- Messages
- 2,018
- Reaction score
- 417
- Location
- Vermont
- Website
- robynflatley.blogspot.com
bedroom wandering
camera in hand
flashing time
freezes
I am
forever
in my room
even as they
force me out
with all their kind
words, I am bereft
and becoming homeless
camera in hand
flashing time
freezes
I am
forever
in my room
even as they
force me out
with all their kind
words, I am bereft
and becoming homeless
In that flash
I am twenty
then it subsides
white to
blue then
real.
And I am me
wondering
how I can wear such
age when I
am so young.
I am twenty
then it subsides
white to
blue then
real.
And I am me
wondering
how I can wear such
age when I
am so young.
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butterflies in fields of clover
blue on blue, the green of me.
they were the words of my life
and the bricks of my soul
and a promise that i would always be true.
was i true to you?
you are the mirror of my words
but i see myself not in your eyes
not in your smile and i am not in your future.
i am, as the letters grow both heavy and light,
a word. just one word without name.
and you cannot say it because
i was true to me.
blue on blue, the green of me.
they were the words of my life
and the bricks of my soul
and a promise that i would always be true.
was i true to you?
you are the mirror of my words
but i see myself not in your eyes
not in your smile and i am not in your future.
i am, as the letters grow both heavy and light,
a word. just one word without name.
and you cannot say it because
i was true to me.
Under the frames, under the glass
they hold you dear, they hold you fast.
They catch a moment and pull it through
a silvered plate, an immortal you.
They force a pose, a certain face
in timeless amber to keep your place.
But you will move and break the line
vibrant souls live outside time.
they hold you dear, they hold you fast.
They catch a moment and pull it through
a silvered plate, an immortal you.
They force a pose, a certain face
in timeless amber to keep your place.
But you will move and break the line
vibrant souls live outside time.
some cultures believe
photos steal bits of the soul
gives you ownership
of their essence
i recovered a piece
of my time
of my soul
in that flash
photos steal bits of the soul
gives you ownership
of their essence
i recovered a piece
of my time
of my soul
in that flash