Sophistication, Self- Preservation and Sonatas

another tis what tis, friends...

She sits at a classic roll top desk comprised of the most exquisite oak,
pen in hand as a journal entry is written...

     'I will remain and live in the conscious present from this day
      forward.'

Breathe in; breathe out; breathe in; breath out...slow...abysmal......
until atelectasis is but a familiar stranger, a casualty in the self vs
self War of Her World...too long....too unyielding, especially when two
poles finally submit in attempt to make peace with each other...

She's so cold...shivering even on smoldering summer nights...  Will her
eyes confront the glimmer in his eyes of blue?  brown?  grey?  Have
they met?  Will suspicion show her hideous face should he kiss her?

If she wrote a synopsis of life and its biting irony...her irony, the
exception to every rule is preceded by her ambivalence, and her sins
are swallowed as the spell is broken....their gateway to immortality...
her ascension...

She sings, dances, appears joyous although keeps forever that Lucifer
lurks in the most brilliant light, and they fail to see what becomes
of a corpse once Death exposes her lust...   She is endowed with an
ample bosom to feed mankind with the futility of promise...but...

it's Time...

     'I will be mindful...sensible....smile daily...I will concede...'

Yet she ne'er stops dreaming, for through the darkness and each
subtle snowfall, one shall hear the violin of the widow..............

Author's Note

Another one a bit different although I had fun writing it, my friends...

Reviews

[Erotic Goddess]

Yet she ne'er stops dreaming, for through the darkness and each
subtle snowfall, one shall hear the violin of the widow..............

The peace of the night is interrupted by the sweet sounds of the violin and I imagine this scene on a cold night...lovely, haunting imagery here in this piece. I am glad I found it on my reading list.

xxoxx

[TamiViolet]

Thank you for your sweetness, Stephanie :-) xox.

[Stephanie Slayer]

beautiful work

[FallenWingz]

This was beautifully written I love the wording the flow just really pulled me in and its like reading a part of a journal and also her feelings and emotions was well displayed in this lovely delectable piece I'm at aww at your writing.

[Francesca]

Wow. I love the image of the violin of the widow. This poem flows beautifully and you really give the character a unique voice.

[Michael X]

Apollonia, this is so soft and truly magical, I can sum it up to, written in another realm, one of pure poetry and the heart, honestly, I fell in love with this poem, it is that beautiful, thank you for the word treat :)

[Ruth]

I am absolutely astounded by this love! Such elegance, one of the most stunning pieces I have read in a while. Almost free form and what a journey through darkness, light, crossroads, delight, sadness, tragedy and so much more.....I know this is minimal love but I am for once speechless!
Beautiful!
xx

[emmajoy]

For some reason I see this woman as being dead, wondering about the men she never met (re. colour of eyes) and that now she sits waiting, wondering, writing, in a form of limbo, neither there or here ie the two poles. End of poem - she continues to wait for the place where immortality reigns supreme, ' Yet she ne'er stops dreaming, for through the darkness and each subtle snowfall, one shall hear the violin of the widow..............'
Wrong or right, probably the latter, this is a dark and powerful piece of writing with much mind movement.

[Pax Analog]

This piece conveys a layered enigma worthy of a fine open-ended parable.

The first irony of 'I will remain and live in the conscious present from this day forward' is like a pricelessly sly Zen joke. Only stripped steady-state observation without assertion makes the stated intent possible.

The insertion of a medical term highlights the contrast between desire for attentive precision and the mood of lyrical reverie.

"Lucifer" means "light bearer." Another irony. ;-)

The ebb and flow of mind parallels the difference between thought and the observation thereof, or the differences between left and right-brained apprehension.

Even as another affirmation is assayed, "Yet she ne'er stops dreaming, for through the darkness and each/subtle snowfall, one shall hear the violin of the widow.............." reminds us that poetry simply arises mysteriously out of an open sky mind, a mood of secret waters. The struggle, the sought stance is always already the case. Irony compounded.

As always, a sense of acausal lush sublimity underlies all.

[An owl on the moon]

What a world you've woven here.. delicate and dark.. longing in all that is human existence.. It cries out to be heard.. to be sung in some sense.. These eloquent lines are filled with courage in facing the days ahead. Brilliantly done.

[.]

You write prose with a flare ..this is a thoughtful poem...introspection at its best...well written