Sunday, September 25, 2016

September 25, 2016 Sunday's Whirligig #78/ The Sunday Whirl #267/ Poets United Poets Pantry/ The Silence After

The Silence After

in the silence after      i clutch the ashes to my chest       carry them with me everywhere

the date burned into my brain       hard to remember       my former life it is as if

it has been drawn with a pencil         erased                     drawn again

upon examination       the work is a mess                         yet it is my life

all lines lead to you     i submit for your examination      the great divide

between what was before/wwb     and what is now/win              life goes on

even if we are no longer living       just alive until           we can live again



the summer night hot            the katydids                    sound their alarm

spreading the news                some even seem to scream         the land scorched

the drought drags on              hottest summer on record       long gone are the butterflies

flowers in the garden     gourds drying in the fields     the girls draw lines on the sidewalk

play hop-scotch                   end of summer                each little piece

placed into a capsule           perhaps one day              it will be opened

all will be revealed              remembered                    make sense



until then                 you will remain in a secret place              we share old memories

could we have picked a better story       shoplifted from another       lived another life

probably not           this story was written long ago               even before we were born

we just play our parts             learn our lines                       appear on stage when called

September 25, 2016












s Wjor; #26

10 comments:

  1. This is very good. I especially like "my former life it is as if

    it has been drawn with a pencil erased drawn again" ... I hope the pencil at least has one of those cute, colorful topper-erasers in the shape of a little animal or something. :) No matter what happens, we have to keep things cute and fun, or what's the point of it all?

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  2. That line between what was before and what is now.......we constantly return to it,so precious was what was before that never will be again. Thank heaven for our work! I resonate with this one, Annell.

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  3. Alive until we can live again.. Like holding our breaths and wishing.. How it makes our chest and heart ache. Those pencil lines are haunting.. And the flashback.. I suppose our stories are already there.. It is sad to think some lines can be so irreversible..and yet I am glad there is a secret place to keep what is dear to us inside..warm hugs to you and bright flowers xo

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  4. The end part reminds me of the famous quote from Shakespeare about all the world being a stage.

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  5. I love the way you come back to that point you are trying so hard to forget... I think even if it's penciled it cannot be erased...

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  6. This was great... a little radical for you I thought... which didn't diminish the talent you have :)
    ZQ

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  7. "wwb" verses "win"; both are important for wholesomeness, for poetry, for lessons, and for continuing.

    Wishing you a happy Sunday

    much love...

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  8. Deep, deep, deep. Yes sometimes as I look back at life I realize that even if I wanted to change something I probably wouldn't. I would make the same choices, end up in the same place. And that is not bad. We all play our parts...perhaps predetermined. There may be a master playwright up there who is in charge!

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  9. The only difference between wwb and win is the perspective of the viewer. And that doesn't change anything. As you say, we go on living until we can live again,

    Elizabeth

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  10. Very Shakespearean in its conclusion, a sad acceptance that this is how life and death is. Beautifully written Annell.

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