Content with his ignorance,
he smiles, noticing no difference
in his ravaged mirror,
between the illusion of elegance
and the reality with a touch of the ridicule.
If later that mirror was surrounded by
unexpected nature, small branches with thorns,
fresh green that looks for sunshine,
the irruption of leaves, leaflets and pods…
and if later he was surrounded by the truth…
/
There are cavities where lies fall,
alibis where his life disappears,
sudden responsibilities to cover up
past travels to the land of void
/
If later the embrace of the honey locust
produced affection with a twist,
affliction and mist to lure
lifelong mechanisms, the lucidity
wouldn’t last, it’s all written on the birch bark:
predictable surface kissed by ignorance.
Then, her body is an affordable amphora
for him – asking her little at a time –
he safeguards the illusion of control
inducing, seducing, pretending not to
want anything to keep some vow
of chastity, poverty and self-obedience;
a monk, deep in the forest of a hall mirror.
And when he’s gone, she mourns the loss of nothing.
the shallowness of such pretense is best summed up by your classy image of "travels to the land of void". Relations with those who choose to live there is like being in perpetual motion and getting no where; the journeying itself is exhausting: a forest trail which is permanently overgrown and self-defeating. Very cool writing! xx
This is a masterpiece! :)
At each stage of a relationship we have ample opportunity to use the relationship as a mirror, or rather what i am trying to say is we can ask ourselves are we self absorbed, or are we capable of putting the needs of the other first when necessary. I'm not sure if I have this right, Axilea, but at any rate, I am so in awe of your eloquence!
Blessings,
Christine
The acid is mild and sophisticated but penetrating, Axilea,
for the overwhelming emotion, for me, is the sadness of
misunderstanding, in such a relationship an ignorance of loss
or not knowing what treasure we have..
and better off without him...quite rightly.
Early Works is an exhaustive compilation of the first decade of the poems and stories of Z.B.McClure. Included are family photos, rare personal photos, photos of 1st draft manuscripts of many of his early poems. Also some biography and memoir materia
David Hightower’s lyrically expansive meditation on the whims of fate and the unpredictability of the human condition fill the pages of THE HANGING MAN DREAMS with thrilling music and mesmerizing imagery. Hightower’s richly infused voice echoes the e
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these lines. Notably:
between the illusion of elegance
and the reality with a touch of the ridicule.
and these concluding lines:
a monk, deep in the forest of a hall mirror.
And when he’s gone, she mourns the loss of nothing.
My admiration and my envy, Axilea.
-gene.
Regis
God bless,
Lew
At each stage of a relationship we have ample opportunity to use the relationship as a mirror, or rather what i am trying to say is we can ask ourselves are we self absorbed, or are we capable of putting the needs of the other first when necessary. I'm not sure if I have this right, Axilea, but at any rate, I am so in awe of your eloquence!
Blessings,
Christine
for the overwhelming emotion, for me, is the sadness of
misunderstanding, in such a relationship an ignorance of loss
or not knowing what treasure we have..
and better off without him...quite rightly.
John
fee
Always,
Deborah