Tuesday, February 15, 2005

Down the up chimney

Carving to see
Starving
Patterns plain as smoke
Ethereal as dreams
Of smoke
Shrieking
waking
daunting
shaking

Camera obscura
On the nerve
Repetition
harmony
hollow light
Dull and blurred
A bird in the sky
Going nowhere

And in the room
No one goes
An empty plate
On the table
Painting of fruit
Fork
knife
spoon
cup

Bad eyes
Starry night
A sense of blur
Hands jerk
And in the corner
A record skips
skips
skips

Lives like smoke
Looking for patterns
Love me

5 comments:

Russell Ragsdale said...

Inspired by a post on larva life: thanks Ana

the lives we leave said...

Anais said:
Wow.
I read that poem over and over again. I have shivers up and down my back.
I am so moved that I inspired you to write such an amazing poem. Wow.
I think we, the poets, bleed differently, not like the others. I think we also heal differently as well.

You inspired me as well...
Thank you.. ;-)
(BTW - Ana is purple and I (Anais) am the light green. ;-)

Gama said...

This poem is absolutely incredible.

Very good lines and the effect
it had on me.
As I was reading it, I was having the images on my head.
As always impressive!

Russell Ragsdale said...

Thanks Gama! I always value your comments very much.

Julie said...

Wonderful! It just flows....