"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

[Rene Velez]

a slew of thoughts woven like a finely knitted quilt of poetic warmth, fine tone and wordplay Chris...Bravo!!!

[Michael G.]

Good thoughts. I wish in a way it was in the morning so I could consider this, (go to the end...}{

I guess a "Today" today's would allow one to enter into a conversation without asking, already knowing the answer before the question was asked... and for that matter, even before I pondered to join in the conversation.
Mere words and thoughts I guess, but still mine... to keep, or lend, or to give... and perhaps to take back upon my whim, or by my fate... that happened Today inside my yesterday's voice.
Brittle snowflakes. Lovely to ponder, though much too warm here for their safe keeping.

}{...this thought I've already written with my coffee. As it is, tea just doesn't do it at night.)

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

What a magical journey you took me on... almost felt like kid again in the Idaho snow that got taller then me. What special memories this poem conjured up... you really know how to take the reader to another place with your words.

[J. J. Nightingale]

Long ago is very close to me

I've found a place to stay
And there I've built walls
For privacy ..and departure ..
And I can't find a way out of yesterday

I'll keep writing to re-mind .. me of
When breathing, and love was easy
Maybe some one will see
And relate
To the hearts and tears released
And held, in me ..


I have a fever, so please excuse my rambling heart
Sometimes it has a voice of it's own

There you go Chris, provoking REAL thought again .. as no one else can do ..

For-ever hugs , and caring ............. Jazz x

I love the look of snowflakes .. but don't understand, laughter makes brittle snow-flakes .......... completely anyway .. I do understand them falling gently, silently.. to melt and then blend together with their own kind , thereby being a firmer foundation .....

[olla]

and when the reader pauses at the end to savor the richness of the tapestry these words have woven.. or to reflect on the wisdom offered or the sweetness of that night against the sea wall.. and even the brittle truth of laughter.. then the writer has done his job well..

[KAOlmsted]

I lingered on this...took my sweet time with it...absorbed the words...closed my eyes at the end and took a nice, deep breath...exhaled...watched my fingertips dance across the keyboard to show my appreciation...realized mere words wouldn't cut it...realized mere words are all I have...well done, my friend. This is superior.

[Chris]

Superior? - nah, just so very, very, very real. It's a "today" today. Hi Kimmer.

[KAOlmsted]

Don't argue with me ;-) Hi, Chris. "Today" todays are...like that sometimes.

[Chris]

chuckling here...yeah, guess they are ...like that... some times.