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Posts Tagged ‘echo’

I would like to remember

for the sake of remembrance

without fear of talking on corners

where echoes reverberate

within these four white walls.

 

I would like to visit a place

that is only half-remembered

where the streets are fading

against the foggy morning light.

 

Have they forgotten

or just being forgetful?

Frozen fingers of tree branches

on a bleak Friday morning.

Wisps of emotion numbed

by the chilly winds,

the pores of my skin

have forgotten to breathe.

 

The chances of longing

for somebody or someone

whom you have felt the time

when the blood on your veins

boil and burst with life. Inside

of you. That the world is

still a beautiful place, after all.

 

Just for this moment of expectation.

This soft prison cell will balm my soul

who wants to break out as a man

free like a butterfly

in its resplendent colors.

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Water drop in my universe,

echoes from afar becoming distinct

sound. Drip, drip, drip

circles expanding colorless

and still blue. Little waves

breaking long stretches

of silence seemingly placid.

Roll. Roar. Rage. Stirred deep

from the abyss chasing the shore.

Falling endless in a waterfall

like inner voice thunders

slicing the river into gorges

and deep canyons. Ancient

ages and weather change

patterns and paths, yet

only to be heard and seen

the cycle of life again.

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This man’s bohemian

and the weird symphonies-

the whining of fan blades;

the sharp screams of children

vibrating on the window pane;

and the crackling sound of

my bones tired of standing up,

shuffling back and forth

turning to see the bed

tempting me to lay down,

get lazy and do nothing.

 

And the sight of garbage can

nudging me about the litter

which keeps on piling up

and the sink flowing over

of soiled dishes. The hour

and the minute hand,

my body clock’s monotony

winding around the disc.

I wait and wait

when the light changes

from blue to augur yellow.

My head’s been heavy

and sleep won’t come.

 

It feels strange. Someone

speaks in a muffled voice

and you float being chased

around in dreams. Awake,

its bitter after-taste linger,

through the drab grey day.

The eerie whisper of shadows

on the white-washed wall

bouncing like myriad echoes

slower than the speed of sound.

And I can see vague visions-

on this mind’s glass screen

etching tattoos bleeds

the insomniac in me.

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Farther and farther apart

the road stretches oppositely

into two directions. I came

to home only to find I did

not belong there anymore.

 

Strangers fill the rooms,

I keep communing with ghosts.

Speaking to the walls and floors

absorbing echoes and heartbeats

from a dying man.

 

Like a bird lost in migration

without a nest to lay its wings.

Through the labyrinth of dreams

I am not yet found.

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Outside looking in.

Thoughts pierce something unspoken-

silence taking shape.

 

(this is a haiku submission to my friend Lynda’s Bookstains Poetry Challenge with a link http://bookstains.wordpress.com/2011/01/09/poetry-challenge-the-hepworth-echo/  , hepworth’s sculpture are great pieces of art )

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I build

with lines and curves

in syntaxes, in symbols.

Blank space waiting

to emerge in form. Subdued,

muted in tone verses. Tempered

by time, organic

in proportion,

inspired.

 

Scale upon scale.

Measure for measure.

Out of paper,

subliminal life

surfaces. A voice,

a message in letters,

of pure and simple

speech.

 

Impressions.

Outside

looking in. Experience

subtle reverberations,

palimpsest graphite

echoes of human

dimension.

 

The length,

the width and the depth

of an architect,

I build.

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