Everyone’s hearts is frozen
on the brink of
some solstice
Where time comes and goes
back and forth
until suddenly
it swoop’s you up
in a fatal sneak attack
Down this slippery road of
black on white, wetness
alongside a young Indian beauty
riding ,high atop a green
stallion
refusing to look towards my
direction, …………….. a trail of shiny pebbles
falling, from my empty pockets
sounding like water dripping
thawing in the afternoon
leaving North Country
Snassano03-09-08
Funny you are writing about snow and finding your way back, I just wrote about spring, and believe me, the pebbles lead to rebirth and sunshine and peace....
Peace, love, and light,
Amber "V"
pebbles left indeed. ........ little stones to follow your way back.. [but not IF]...... ... . .. . . .
and the black/white contrast of every.little.thing][ sol=sun=st.ice [who is st.ice anyway?] the solstice man standing, trying to hold onto all and let go of everything simultaneously [nothing in your pockets]...a release, a re[lent]ing of wills, but not ever of spirits....soul.searching...and searching some more out and in the desert, the dry spots of the heart; that water dripping [from heaven knows where:: pockets, sockets, eyes, prayers] making an oasis for the a soul. ..a wet/dryblack/whitegreen/red journey. ...where all just IS. ...alive and well and spilling hope....
this is breathtaking and imagetic.
huzzah
licorice whips and chains~
> <
...wonderful images...you leave us with...of north country...perhaps emotions held...in pockets...seem to dissipate...heading towards the warmth of a new sun.
excellent write Stan...
John
This is very evocative Stan, and I like the way it begins and ends, somewhat suddenly, like a slice of life, part of a jurney suddenly revealed. I wonder if it wouldn't be better to say "everyone's heart is"? I also like the visual, almost concrete detail of "…………….. a trail of shiny pebbles", where one actually sees a representation of a trail of pebbles. Intriguing recollection of images in space and time.
First Edition Translation of Teselas by Carmen Crespo X111 César Simón Poetry Prixe 2016 Translated from Spanish by Robin Ouzman Hislop and Amparo Arrospíde
This collection of poetry addresses the nature of time, reflections on the natural world, the difficulty of loss,
contemporary social issues and gratitude for life.
(Self-published. Please contact author directly to order.)
Enter the pages of diaspora in quiet introspection. Bathe your thoughts with subtle humor; synchronize your spirit-sense with history-in-heat; fall headlong with eyes wide open into
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Cryssa
Peace, love, and light,
Amber "V"
and the black/white contrast of every.little.thing][ sol=sun=st.ice [who is st.ice anyway?] the solstice man standing, trying to hold onto all and let go of everything simultaneously [nothing in your pockets]...a release, a re[lent]ing of wills, but not ever of spirits....soul.searching...and searching some more out and in the desert, the dry spots of the heart; that water dripping [from heaven knows where:: pockets, sockets, eyes, prayers] making an oasis for the a soul. ..a wet/dryblack/whitegreen/red journey. ...where all just IS. ...alive and well and spilling hope....
this is breathtaking and imagetic.
huzzah
licorice whips and chains~
> <
excellent write Stan...
John
cheers,
dan
Axilea