Thursday, March 19, 2009

Blurry Days

Some days know not
the passage of time
milestones
joy and tears
but mostly, it seems
tears
blurry days

They live as if alive
and the memory,
vivid as yesterday
forever
yesterday
moments laid as poetry
in a life of prose

Endings mostly
Relationships mainly
man and beast
friend and foe
lovers
and those we never loved
but wished we had
feeling our life
the less
in pages
never
written


The pain of loss
tentacles entrenched
spread, embed, become
a life
competing
growing
never waning
never paling
never the less
always the more
this pain of night
that rolls into day
of ice in glass
and glass of eye
shards of memory
reflecting
the jagged edges
of things said
and
things
never
given
light

8 comments:

Frequent Traveler said...

((hugs))
you have given me much light coming here, reading the words from your heart and brain... May I return the favor to your Soul...

http://www.robinalexis.com/content/reiki-healing-robin-alexis

Check this webpage out tonight, Tree... I think it will do its magic :)

Trée said...

Annie, thank you for the link. Going now to check it out. :-)

Elise said...

Your words are so thought provoking. I sit back and think and feel of the times in my life that you have described with such accuracy. The work of a true poet xx

Trée said...

Elise, I can't explain it, but your comment, at this moment, brings tears (good ones I think) to my eyes. I would hug you if I could for there are no words to say how much I appreciate your words. Thank you.

Ms Storm said...

Before I say anything else, I must highlight these lines:
moments laid as poetry
in a life of prose

and hail them as exalted. Inspired. And exhilarating, laying aside the magnitude of all else that you have written (not even possible to do in theory), these lines in themselves make me want to give thanks and praise literature, and the art of writing, creativity, inspiration, talent, life, fractal art, every good thing that had some part in occasioning that you came to write. There is purpose and reason for these things, so cites the sense of momentousness that one feels as reader reading the kind of writing that you produce, consistently. Of being in the presence of divine inspiration, of talent that is prodigious, of writing that touches the heart, moves the mind and nourishes the soul. Such emotive writing formed so naturally, and therein lies the secret of your gift, as I see it, for when it comes to those most affective of subjects, nature, emotion, the things that we all live with and feel and see, those things so great and eternal and infinite that definition, encompassing, is impossible, somehow, some way, you capture the very essence and in so doing convey, directly and through suggestion, an entirety.
and those we never loved
but wished we had

I have placed in italics a mere couple of lines from a poem that is superbly written and extremely affecting throughout, trance-inducing, in its implication and delivery.

Trée said...

Ms Storm, there are times when I feel I reading you talking about somebody else and wanting to know who this person is. I want to find a brick wall and bang my head against it until I ever pass out or can see what you see. Until then, I can only say thank you.

j said...

feeling our life
the less
in pages
never
written

Wow. No real words, just WOW.

Trée said...

Jen, your words mean more than you know today. Thank you.