Climb the ladder to the day;
climb out of the dark cloth of night.
There is a nakedness in the light
that has nothing to do with clothes.
Press the silk of ruined dreams;
smell the wet and hot of protection
sleeping bag tight in the cocoon –
metamorphosis or death.
That which is different
appears as broken glass
treaded to crumbled sameness
becoming yesterday.
Tomorrow springs to life
in words and dreams and falling leaves.
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14 comments:
Killer of an ending, Russell!
"Climb the ladder to the day;
climb out of the dark cloth of night."
Beautiful imagery....and I agree with Aurora the ending is great.
Keep writing Russell!
Thanks Aurora! What a Hot comment! Glad you liked it.
Thanks m. shahin! I'm glad you enjoyed this. Those are some of my favorite lines. Thanks for the great comment!
Of course I prefer the "nakedness" that has everything to do with clothes, or the lack thereof. You do pose an ever ponderable question, could it possibly be neither? Well done, my friend, well done!!
Hi Pat! Thanks for the thoughts. In this world there is already too much of the neither. I am sure that more metamorphosis needs to be going on. Of course you are right, the question is endless. Thanks for the great comments!
I'm with Pat (well, not WITH him, not like that, I never even met him), anything pertaining to nakedness is a glorious thing. And all seem to concur, the end is the bomb.
Hi ozy! Nakedness is just what you have when you don't have anything else (particularly, on). Thanks for the great comment. Glad you liked the ending
"Metamorphosis or death"...fantastic. Like GIVE ME LIBERTY OR GIVE ME DEATH. A chrysalis forced to choose...
Thanks madame b! I Believe in metamorphosis. It is more than a hope. Thanks for the great comment and I enjoyed your poetry.
"There is a nakedness in the light
that has nothing to do with clothes."
Great imagery. One keepsthinking about that..
Thanks gautami tripathy! That couplet was also very important to me. Those types of realizations are in the spirit, not the eye, and that seems to be part of what poetry is about. Thanks for sharing that with me!
bcy
Sorry Russel the cat commented there I think he liked the poem though as he was purring when he sat on the keyboard. But seriously definately the mood changes perception and makes the memory one of broken glass. I like or at least I have felt something similar.
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