Date: 17.01.2008
Time: 9:25 a.m.
A wind blew across the room
From a parted window
It made brittle pages fly
Rustling without much show,
An upturned inkpot lay forgotten
Beside those yellowed pages
Black ink lay still and dry
Its motion ceased since ages.
The desolate silence brought to the fore
By movement of a restless breeze
Those scattered pages settling still
Locked away in time to freeze,
A ray of sunny seeking light
Cast warmth upon that frozen shot
That relic captured in fleeting flight
Left to contemplate what its death brought.
End: 9:35 a.m.
7 comments:
It brought fulfilment later, I would like to believe.
"Black Ink" great expression
back to gore and violence eh?
love the picture this brings to mind... i love the way u describe stillness.... makes me wanna pause for a while... but then some ppl r jus not made for things like that.. *sigh* loved this one... :)
cheers!
Pretty much the scene when i sit down to study and nothing penetrates my cranium nd everythng lies forgotten arnd me.nicely described static scene.kinda restless also.nw thats a contradictn.
I like the way that a few words in this poem can invoke images with depth. The way that meaning is not lost with rhyme.
I'd like to think that whatever its death brought, it was meaningful. That life is not entirely over until the ripples caused by its tenure are also stilled.
Hello sceptic, you are in love with feeling, which you try to capture in your words- your feelings, ("Locked away in time to freeze") once again reviewed with feeling only capture a relic in fleeting flight; alas, it's just contemplation of the words that once gave your feeling life.
QUOTE: "Although I speak in tongues of men and angels I'm just sounding brassAnd tinkling cymbals without love--Love suffers long--Love is kind!--Enduring all things--Love has no evil in mindIf I had the gift of prophecy--And all the knowledge--a nd the faith to move the mountains even if I understood all of the mysteries--If I didn't have loveI'd be nothingLove--never looks for love--Love's not puffed up--Or envious--or touchy--Because it rejoices in the truth not in iniquity love sees like a child seesAs a child I spoke as a child--I thought and I understood as a child--But when I became a woman--I put away childish things, and began to see through a glass darkly Where, as a child, I saw it face to face now, I only know it in part Fractions in me of faith and hope and love, and of these great threeLove's the greatest beauty."
SORRY I'VE BEEN AWAY- THIS IS GREAT!
Kaz: I wonder what the point of all of it is, but maybe that's just me being cynical and morbid.
Baron: Thanks. I liked the interpretation of the expression. And yes, I can't stay away from gore for long, can I?
Shimmer: Thanks. But why would you say that some people aren't meant for pausing?
The Tentacles of Thought: Ha ha. Studies. Heh. Thanks for the visit.
Aruni RC: Thank you. But who actually cares whether that death was meaningful? Once something dies, it doesn't matter if the death was meaningful. It's death all the same.
Sean: He he he. I am in love with expression. I'm not all that sure about feeling though. But thanks for taking the trouble of writing what a few lines I'd written made you think. It's a nice 'feeling', you know. :P
And I still remain a firm sceptic. :P
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