You will find me here sitting
at the end of the sentence-
like in a breakwater. Waiting
for ships and vessels of words
in this twilight seeking
the meaning of this impending
darkness. When
it anchors and begins to unload
subtle images of this lonely harbor.
Watching the past
sinking down
along
with my heart.
And the sky will once again-
dotted by inkblots.
Smeared into the face
of this teary evening.
While time slowly
freezes, then fades into
early hours till daybreak,
unfinished.
When I am not
being able to say
goodbye.
Solitude Amidst the Maddening Crowd
Marvin,
It is great to be exchanging thoughts again with you through our works and poetry, in this modern-day virtual collaborations that I missed for awhile. Though I shied away visiting other sites for now for the reason that I mentioned in one of my replies to your comment in one of my poems, I kept my regular visit to your works and look forward reading your pieces because I feel easily connected to them with us coming from semilar backgrounds and roots.
This poem in particular proves that point, and though we may have expressed it in different ways but the thoughts and sentiments expressed are alike. This is one of the few times that a line in my poem inspired you to write a poem and is interesting to see how a new life is born from one facet of the poem like a sprig branching out forming new words into a whole new tree of poetry.
The line from my poem “Home Sick In Autumn” that became the title of your poem “ink must wait” was actuall born also from another idea in a poem I wrote before with the title” poems can’t wait”
http://jeques.wordpress.com/2008/08/24/poems-cant-wait/
Our love for writing is apparent in our works, but concealed between the lines are deeper thoughts and fears of losing something we can not gain back once we lost them. And in writing we hope not.
I wish you well.
~ Jeques
jeques,
this poem is specially meaningful for me. i try to translate the thoughts i have for somebody who is fond of writing loveletters. but in one unexplained circumstance, decided not to. and he is powerless to put the words-written on a page. maybe im just thinking about that too much, because in real life, i am compelled to write when my emotions are at its strongest. and a line in your poem proves to be another anchor point to begin another tapestry of our worthy collaboration. yes, i do hope that we outlast the fear that grips us to lose something, knowing that in the end, if it meant to stay, it will.
best of times,
marvin
I read your comment and understand and totally agree that writing poetry seems to be done when emotions are the strongest. That’s the way it is with me.
I like this poem and your work. Thank you for stopping by my blog (http://goodthepoet.wordpress.com) and letting me know about yours.
Good – the poet
hi good,
thanks for sharing your insight. your blog has raw power and continue writing poems.
cheers