Like an epileptic fire
the memory fought the wind
of present contradictions
as she saw him
Some parts are veiled
some songs are syncopated
feminine velvet unaccepted
a nest of needles barely hidden
When she saw him
the old dance reminded its steps
and something kept turning
around the axis of social stability
Telekinetic power
and through the years she held him tight
while their bodies
stood separated
by people, noise and theater hall
Like an epileptic fire
seismic treasures and sweaty hands
immobility on high heels
the common illusion
to feed the audience
The pale words they said
though keeping the distance
two elegant screens in a boudoir
keeping passion at bay
The certainty of having missed her
written on the silent candle of his body:
she read him from the distance
- conventions intact - she felt
his crumbled soul.
This reminds me of the movie "Remains of the Day" with Emma Thomson. (so I catch this poem exactly 1 year after you post it. How strange is that?) The images flicker/jolt and dance very much like what would be an epileptic fire. My favorite image is "two elegant screens in a boudoir keeping passion at bay", and a close second would be "The certainty of having missed her written on the silent candle of his body"
In that poem, I saw a heart, like wet sticks, smouldering slowly, hiding all the darting flames, that were once ignited by the heat of feelings, and desires of wanting to belong to eachother.
Not under - stating the beauty of the comparisons spread all over the poem like dew sits on flowers, the poem made me feel like I jumped from a significant height into ocean, where my whole self is taken deep into waters effortlessly.
Well done.
Your words flow beautifully and give a special meaning to love. But I fought over and over with saying this or not. An epileptic seizure is not a pleasant thing. Believe me. Please don't take offense, it really is a lovely poem.
Interesting, the use of space and desire for what is possibly there yet leaving one with the sense that there may be an act two down the road. I enjoyed this.
Like an epileptic fire
the memory fought the wind
of present contradictions
and the unique images that follow the path of unfulfilled love,
leading to the tragic image of:
The certainty of having missed her
written on the silent candle of his body:
she read him from the distance
- conventions intact - she felt
his crumbled soul.
I am extraordinarily moved by this in ways I can't seem to put my finger on... which seems to me also to be the elusive quintessence of what your poem's about! But my goodness, your imagery for such hunchiness of feeling is radiant and packs a good punch. The unexplained, unknown storm inside, the inner fire that won't be quenched. Some most fabulous lines:
When she saw him
the old dance reminded its steps
and something kept turning
around the axis of social stability
Telekinetic power
and through the years she held him tight
while their bodies
stood separated...
The certainty of having missed her
written on the silent candle of his body:
There is something gripping and melancholy about this...all at the same time. You cause the reader to feel the emotions of pain and propriety all at once.
The cost of love and hearts that collide in passion is dear but where would we be without love and passion...robotic drones and workers only. Great write Axilea
Enjoy twists and surprising turns in this erotic collection of sexy love stories based on seven classic fairy tales. There are romantic interludes to touch your heart and plenty of scorching sex to warm your coldest nights.
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--Charlie
Not under - stating the beauty of the comparisons spread all over the poem like dew sits on flowers, the poem made me feel like I jumped from a significant height into ocean, where my whole self is taken deep into waters effortlessly.
Well done.
Your words flow beautifully and give a special meaning to love. But I fought over and over with saying this or not. An epileptic seizure is not a pleasant thing. Believe me. Please don't take offense, it really is a lovely poem.
Mary
Like an epileptic fire
the memory fought the wind
of present contradictions
and the unique images that follow the path of unfulfilled love,
leading to the tragic image of:
The certainty of having missed her
written on the silent candle of his body:
she read him from the distance
- conventions intact - she felt
his crumbled soul.
- David
When she saw him
the old dance reminded its steps
and something kept turning
around the axis of social stability
Telekinetic power
and through the years she held him tight
while their bodies
stood separated...
The certainty of having missed her
written on the silent candle of his body:
Top drawer as always! Thank you xx
Cryssa
I particularly like the following lines:
The pale words they said
though keeping the distance
two elegant screens in a boudoir
keeping passion at bay
-gene.
hugs
Fee
Be always safe,
Karen
Regis
Ron