Fragility, a poem
65
murky mountains
muddled with mist
and valleys that stretch
from rock to rock:
the barren land i call the sea
a hand lacking rings
sinks beneath the fog
falling under consciousness
stretched fingers grasp
vacancy
tears warm and sweet as honey
flow on a frigid face
fall from dismantled thoughts
whose inspiration moved away
leaving blankness behind
drink, my darlings
drink, my lovers of lonely
drink to the death of a heart
whose slumber once awakened
now forever ceases in awkward silence
that breathes that bleeds that blows
soft as jewelled night
whisper to me the words
unsaid by the drunkard
who sleeps on the bench
by the billboarded wasteland
whisper the screaming loneliness
whisper the dangling dissatisfaction
fragile i will fall
on a windy day
Here's a link to my other poems:
- Poetry by Rose West
The reason I've put this collection together is partly because of myself. I thought it would make things easy if I had all my poetry cataloged in one place. If I get organized, maybe none of my poems will get...
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Sage Williams, thank you so much for reading and commenting! I really appreciate it :)
Rose, you invoke very thought provoking images in my heart and mind with the words you have here linked together. A picture as personal to me as the next readers will be to them. I read and see your heart but not so much so that your personal image overwhelms and wipes out mine. Very good. Thank you for writing and sharing this.
UlrikeGrace
I am speechless before such intuitive brilliance. This poem is your best yet, in my humble opinion. Have you ever considered publishing a book of poetry? I think it would bless many people; this poem itself has qualities unlike many modern poems, reminiscent of better poets like Frost and Keats and Dickenson.
UlrikeGrace, your comments really mean a lot! To know that other people can be blessed by the words I thought only I knew the meaning of, is a blessing to me. Thank you for reading and commenting!
Jane, I so appreciate your compliments! If only I were more like Emily Dickinson... Yes, I have thought about publishing poetry. The truth of this sad world is that not many people buy books of poetry anymore. The market is too narrow for my untaught poems to fit in. Of course, I could just be too scared to try.
this is provoking hub. I enjoy the beauty of this poem. thanks
I'm so glad you enjoyed, prasetio30!
Lovely insight to loneliness; very good.
George J Hardy, thank you for reading. I'm happy that this meant something to you.
Beautifully written, the touch of sadness makes it very worthwhile,,,
Wonderful expression, loved it all the way...
Moulik Mistry, thank you for reading; I'm glad you enjoyed it!
your delicate words of grace and serenity match up perfectly with your evocative profile photo.
If there is such a thing as a true poet then you're it.
Thank you so much, epigramman! You flatter me :)
A work of art, this poem. It could be about many things, but to me it seemed to describe the pain and aftermath of the finality of divorce. It could be about something entirely different -- and I haven't experienced divorce -- but this poem was like the experience of a symphony. Two people can be sitting there listening to the symphony in the concert hall and each one's mind can be conjuring up whole worlds of reality due to the power and nuances of the music. (And neither of the two might be anywhere near what the composer was thinking when he created the piece.)
The butterfly wing was so perfect for the visual. It helped to stoke the imagination.
Beautiful. Thank you.
Pamela, thank you for all your words! It wasn't exactly about divorce, but still down that same road of brokenness. Of harmony that has been disrupted.
The fragility of butterfly wings matched the fragile feeling of being lonely. Hope that whatever inspired this no longer causes any pain.
Hi Peggy, human beings are pretty fragile, aren't they? And yet the pain can sometimes fade with time. Thank you for reading!
Sage Williams Level 2 Commenter 2 years ago
Fragile, and still so very beautifully written. I love this poem.
Great Job!
Sage