Wobble

My questions are no longer keen,

like pebbles on the bottom line,

The senses bring flavors within,

blurring my mind like a wine.

 

The river washes its ground bed

for many years going ahead.

 

I don’t search, I don’t wait, I don’t hope.

 

All tears left my memory streams,

a fire grows high from old dreams.

 

The past is a white timeless night,

a blind moon forgetting to shine.

I still feel a cold flimsy light

so deep in this body still mine.

Author's Note

the river means life and time flow as usual

Reviews

[Marie]

This one is beyond my scope.

[Cristina Moldoveanu]

Maybe it is too symbolic...I tried to express the feeling of being alive and hurt by present lights, while I am aging, memories and wishes are ground to dust, youthful desires are no longer mines.

[Marie]

This makes it a little clearer...rather sad imagery....

[Cristina Moldoveanu]

I wanted to say that I am still hurt, in spite of losing dreams or wishes, a light is hurting me inside.

[Cristina Moldoveanu]

Sad, but also alive. Most poems are sad or they express contemplation like yours, cheerful poems are so rare.