"Brittle Snow..."

Thoughts on a now late afternoon...

"Brittle Snow..."

 

     I was glancing at the ads as the pages flew by --"Slaying Dragons" actually IS a business.  And what ARE the "Dragons" faced in our OWN now?  Tasks, People, Concepts, Perceptions... Rights, Dreams, the FUTURE, our pasts? -- Where have we gone?  Where do we go?  Is there any place to ever stay?  As writers - we shed soooo much pencils'-lead and pen nibs'-ink.  As poets - so damn many tears mark the territories of the 'infinite'...

 

Tears - joy,

breathing - exhales ...held... -

feeling - anything, everything

- even something

especially after our nothings

so very known ...deeply,

personally known ...nothings...

tears and laughter

same side of our coined lives -

just different views of the same times.

 

     We weave our thoughts into personal world-swept tapestries.  The self-shelf-walled, en-in-tomed-tombed pages lined by our inner sight - the musical score - our notes, each tone-defined, and timed to follow - OR NOT - what our sight perceives.  We breathe a life's rhythm unique and terrible to be held and release it as only we feel ...right.  And the POWER we wield -- as swaying to and fro, each breath taken ...escapes ...moves across our pages and their lives...

 

Strange how "Long ago" is just

a single dream away...

and yesterday isn't just a memory. 

It's all in how we wake up ...ya know...

and in the eyes in the minds' mirrors

that gaze back

and back        and back

...each today

 

     Snowball fights and snow angels... camp fires, hearth fires, each fires' place - flames flickering flowing dancing twisting teasing rising falling fading drawing me into embers - glowing teasing pulling holding ...memories... chain link fences, dark well-lit hallways, tenement windows, pews and candles,  porch steps and sea walls at 3 AM -

 

sounds in the silence

voices growing, coming

pausing

breathing

being - touched - touching

floating - finding the dreams

fighting the waves - waves

- waving byes -

footsteps ...footsteps always going

filling...

til nothing is all there is

left behind - as on and on

life wanders

 

...laughter makes such brittle, snow flakes.

 

Chris

 

 

Author's Note

feel free

Reviews

[Einstein Noodle]

love the title...the style of story telling and reflections is refreshing and creative....(you write prose and books i bet) this is the second poem in which you are up at 3am...its the witching hour you know..:) as i read i began to think the title is pure creative expression but the last line felt like a blow to my chest and really has sent my pea brain to sailing...i believe i am beginning to see you are an original..
E.

[Chris]

We are all "originals" - unique unto ourselves. Good coffee helps - even if you let it get cold while you ...think.

[Amadi Judith]

Your style is different, your poetry is fresh and you command a lot of respect with this piece of poetry.

[I, Rene]

Probably one of the most hardest things to deal with, is to be called brittle and cold when your heart is breaking every day just as much as the first day it hapened so long ago and you think it should be over by now, this thing not meant to be, it should be forgotten, not worse, yet it grows like a cancer like a tumor, like a word with intention, grows and it doesn't lay down for long it sleeps on a cold slab or it thaws long enough to dream of spring and summers only to awaken on the slab again and it just keeps waking up , but you want it to sleep and sleep forever.

[Chris]

you speak truly and well... thank you for pausing with me

[jacob erin-cilberto]

"is there anyplace ever to stay?"

not sure now...the way the world is, everything is so iffy...so volatile...contentment seems a thing of the past, as does consistency....just when we are cruising along, BAM. We are blown out of the water.

the last line is wonderful...because these days laughter feels so forced...and especially from us poets...since we seem to thrive on pain.

i like the very different layout of this...sort of poemy , sort of prosy a bit stream of consciousness, which i always adored...nice piece...

something that would sound great read aloud, i'm sure.

jacob

[Chris]

When working with poetry I verbalize my thoughs AS I write them... and my work is pretty much all stream of consciousness - prose included. I've stood under the baby spots.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

well it surely works well for you...

[Chris]

Each of us has their own way... and thank you for the thought. The hardest part of stream of consciousness is that the thought doesn't wait for the pen to scrawl or the fingertips to obediently type.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

that is the truth.

[Hadeel ( Charming Fairy..]

When i read the title , i thought it would talk about snow !
but the poem was talking about a whole different issue full of emotions of conflict and fighting !! its so strong piece!

[Chris]

Watching the snowflakes
as they fall...
silent swirling round and around
dancing in the exhales flow
of God's breath
touching
us all.

[Hadeel ( Charming Fairy )]

Yes ! absolutely!! you are so right !
And i did too, i mean i wrote a poem while ago about snow , but its different
than yours :) if you like read it , its called the white visitor :)

[Chris]

of course I will read it..

[Hadeel ( Charming Fairy )]

:) great

[J. J. Nightingale]

I held you in a dream
Little helpless You
Eyes for only me
And now I can't even see

I held you in a dream
Sweet and innocent
Eyes for only me
And now
So sadly now ...
I can't even see ..
You

Dreams are made up wishes .. that we sometimes share
Dreams give us respite .. from pain we can not bare

Writing tells the story of our heart .................... J.

[Nirego]

Having read this 3 times now, focused once on the words, once on the meaning and once on the emotion, I've noticed 3 separate feelings being conjured up, one of the mind, one of the heart and one of the soul - each with its own moment in the forefront of my being. Unfortunately, as yet, I am unable to fathom quite what these sensations represent, nor have I the ability to accuse any one line alone or with another of affecting me.

This has caused me to feel lost, but also free - like some new breed of spiritual limbo...

[Chris]

I'm glad you've begun to understand...

[Holly Mason]

really enjoyed this...laughter makes such brittle snowflakes...the melting comes no matter the truth thank you for sharing

[Chris]

I thought you would understand...and you did. Glad you came

[Dalia]

I enjoyed the free verse in this poem so much.
and as I went on reading it caught my attention even more, wonderful :)

[Aramey]

It's amazing how your poetry grabs my attention and I find myself hanging for dear life off of every word. Excellent write!