Yes. The title is copied from Paul Simon's song, "Slip Sliding Away." It seems to fit this "poem."
Slip Sliding Away
He did not say good-bye
He just slip slid away
He was a sad shadow
Of a man One could see it
In his eyes
What was left of his soul
He had given away much of it
To friends
Mostly former lovers
He felt lost
Out of this element
Before he slip slid away
He would let the sun caress him
Hold the hand of the breeze
Speak to her
By day
Make love to the moon
By night
In the end his soul
Was like late fall leaves
Chased across the frozen surface
Of the pond
By the early winter’s wind
That moaned a mournful dirge
Playing the brittle reeds
On the edge of endless white prairie
In the end
The husk of
what was left of
his soul
Just slip slid away…
Il n'a pas dit au revoir
Il s'est dissimulé
Il n'était plus Que la triste silhouette
D'un homme
On pouvait le constater
Dans ses yeux
Tout ce qui restait de son âme
Il l'avait presque toute donnée
À des amis
La plupart des amoureuses égarées
Il se sentait perdu
Détaché de son élément
Avant son départ
Il laissait le soleil le caresser
Il tenait la main de la brise
Il lui parlait
Le jour
Il faisait l'amour à la lune
La nuit
Par la fin son esprit
Était comme des feuilles d'automne
Poussées sur la surface gelée
De l'étang
Par le vent du jeune hiver
Qui fredonnait une chanson funéraire
Parmi les roseaux désséchés
Du long du bord de la prairie
Cette infinité blanche
À la fin
Il ne restait de son âme
Que la cosse
Qui s'est glissée
Disparue Dans le néant
Alone and having had the slip sliding away, maybe some day he'll slide right back without the slipping and be strengthened.
Reviewed by Darkest Angel (Reader)
Reviewed on June 30, 2010
A secret and sad whithering away from a deficiency of appreciation. This writing is another excellent piece with lovely and saddening metiphors; the dried, blown leaves are heart stopping--even a churn of tears along with a soul cry is felt with this. I hope you feel better in the morning, Regis....
i can picture this person-------his Soul seems to have finished all learning in the linear and has nothing more to give or recieve.so it has gently dis-connected and returned home---leaving his old body suit behind!
a lovely piure painted in words!
This is a beautiful and heartfelt poem that I much enjoyed reading. You did an amazing job with it. My only suggestion would be to punctuate the piece and break it up into stanzas to make the piece more presentable and easier to follow and digest.
Regis, a deeply perceptive look at the fringes of life and death -- when all that remains is the hollow shell of humanity -- when the soul of us has been robbed by the pirates of romance and unfaithfulness -- this is the work of a talented poet my friend -- peace and love to you -- Jon Michael
Dear Regis, You have outdone yourself!! I am always amazed at the diversity of your writing. I loved the metaphors in this one. It was simply beautifully sad-a tribute to the many who feel exactly this way.
Love Micki
There is a relaxation to your great descriptive power of the analogy or death to the changes in season and vegetation that nearly makes the reader feel the melancholy slip sliding away.....Jerry
Very beautifully written, both in English and French.
Mary
Reviewed by Gianetta Ellis (Reader)
Reviewed on December 6, 2009
"...By the early winter’s wind
That moaned a mournful dirge
Playing the brittle reeds
On the edge of endless white prairie..." what great lines these are in a touching composition ~
An amazing poem, Regis. This bares the soul. I like how you show that the damage is done over time - friends and former lovers. We take that leap, but sometimes it doesn't work out. So genuine, that lost feeling you describe. Hugs,
Sheila
and you are love
I offer my open arms
to embrace the soul
inside the emotion of this
your poetic expression
wrapped within this heart
all my love Regis...
Vickie
Ah, Regis -- yes, thank you for posting in French. Post more. I'm sorry for your great and seemingly relentless melancholy. There is such a loneliness. Maybe you're right -- you've given too much away. Maybe you're wrong. Maybe you've given too little away. Who knows? I won't judge. I wish you could find what you seek -- not passing pleasures, but contentment. A real lover. Real love. But first, the real Regis. The strong Regis. The whole and complete Regis who doesn't so desperately need and depend on that love to fill him up. Ah well, man, I love poetry in French. And the English here has so much beauty as well. Hey, they say that the French make the best lovers (although I think that means physically only). Why is that? I mean, why do people say that? What is it you Frenchmen have got, anyway? Just curious. And if you've got it (and it's NOT just physical), (a big IF), then why don't women stick around?
OH MY GOODNESS... As I was reading the English I kept thinking just how GLORIOUS it would be to hear it in French... and there you go!!! So moody and hushed, Regis... Truly, the French I can HEAR being whispered. Captivating and haunting. Just lovely. xx
So much of grain lost these days and so much of husk remains behind. Every line of the poem sheds light on some part of a reality hidden within the shadow of reality itself. Thanks Regis for this great offering.
Regis this is sad yet beautiful...and in the end, many of us go this path - sliding away without fanfare after a life of giving bits of our soul to those we meet on our path. Bittersweet write - I like it a lot.
Sadness is not more somber than the one found in the shadows of a soul despondence, the wish to have and the regret of a lost. This poem tells more of the author than all its words could.
In the echo of Paul Simon , I hear the quiet, lurring words....slip, sliding away. The rhythm is perfect . Love puts on its mourning face.
This is a word painting that touched me. The passion remains as silence slips slides away.
Your best! My favorite!
Blessings and love,
Susan
If you believe in love, then you know that no matter how much you give away, you still have 100..Love comes with an infinite supply. Alas, the man could not accept love, only give it, leaving him feeling empty and his lovers feeling invalidated. Such a sad poem, Regis. Well done.
Take care,
Sherry
Regis, beautiful, but very sad. I loved: "In the end his soul was like late fall leaves chased across the frozen surface of the pond . . ." Your poems always speak to me. All the best, Donelle
Brother, that's a sad one, Regis! Some lovely images: the leaves on the frozen pond, the "endless white prairie" "the husk of his soul." You've got a tense problem: "Hold the hand of the breeze" -- I'd use "Held" instead. Thanks for sharing and write on!
Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader)
Reviewed on December 4, 2009
This just fucking good, Regis / You captured the essence of a tormented soul who had not choice, not at all, just slip sliding away . . . Gotta love it!
excellent writing Regis
worthy of reading and reviewing
Well Penned
William
Reviewed by Peter Schlosser (Reader)
Reviewed on December 4, 2009
This is wonderful writing. A theme I like to touch upon a lot. So much pain and sadness and reality wrapped up in this. Your words are poetry in motion.
Regis,
What a hauntingly sad poem. I wish I could just hug this poor man and bring him into the light with healing energy never to slip slide again.
Profoundly deep!
Peace, love, and light,
Amber "V"
This mood and soulful poem sure fits that photo well. Sometimes I've thought of writing a poem on two areas of greatest pain in life, broken love affairs and death of a loved one. Both take something away from the one left behind. The fact that you mention "former lovers" indicates to me that you have the stamina and strength to overcome the depression and try again.
hug
Kathy
a lovely piure painted in words!
Lena
Eloquently spoken/written Reg.
I like this sad lonely cold indifference picture you posted!
Blessings of Peace and Love, PurpleLadySHEEoxxo
L'amour toujours,
'Feeleess'
PS: What a great choice the photo is! L o v e . it !!
Why am I thinking of Tiger Woods... ;-)
Ron
Love Micki
This is beeautiful! And yes, the title fits it perfectly. :)
Very beautifully written, both in English and French.
Mary
That moaned a mournful dirge
Playing the brittle reeds
On the edge of endless white prairie..." what great lines these are in a touching composition ~
Sheila
I offer my open arms
to embrace the soul
inside the emotion of this
your poetic expression
wrapped within this heart
all my love Regis...
Vickie
Daniel
Much Love,
Always!!!
Margaret
Blessings from Ky.
Joyce B.
Georg
La tristesse n'est pas plus sombre que l'un trouvé dans les ombres d'un découragement d'âme, le souhait pour avoir et le regret d'un perdu. Ce poème dit plus de l'auteur que tous ses mots peuvent.
Love,
Sage
This is a word painting that touched me. The passion remains as silence slips slides away.
Your best! My favorite!
Blessings and love,
Susan
Take care,
Sherry
More than a tinge of sadness, ...sadness in depth expressed in such appropriate images, rich and huanting.
John
Yes- sad as hell, and I see some of myself.
You outdid yourself- and everyone else.
Wow!
John
C'est bien triste , mais très bien écrit comme toujours. Amour et paix.
Ton amie,
Nicole
Love the alliteration in the following:
By the early winter’s wind
That moaned a mournful dirge
-gene.
Cheers,
Dan
Becca
worthy of reading and reviewing
Well Penned
William
fee
(((HUGS))) et amour, ton ami dans Texas, Karen Lynn. :(
Joyeux Noel et Bonne Annee'!!
JOYCE * HIS INSPIRATIONS
What a hauntingly sad poem. I wish I could just hug this poor man and bring him into the light with healing energy never to slip slide again.
Profoundly deep!
Peace, love, and light,
Amber "V"
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Susan
GOD BLESS
Tony