Vanishing Point

Vanishing Point

So what do we think?
When we bother at all.
Of staying in straight lines?
Following the uniform in front?
Followed uniformly behind?
Up marble steps hollowed down by those before,
Past sleeping lions heroically carved to guard…
What? From whom?
Taken in perspective, all lines converge.
Until the mind - that willing fool -
Begins its urging. First quietly, in seditious whisper:
“Yes, this is real, real. Simply reach out and touch to feel.”
So convinced, we break away, slip beneath the velvet rope,
Past guards lost in stuporus dreams of cigarettes and coffee.
We know! Truly know what depth is there.
That hands may feel what eyes may see,
So we reach, reach,
Reach until suddenly,  surprised fingers are stopped.
Stopped short by the grain of brush strokes,
Stopped by the taunt bounce of canvas.
Then, oh then, there is the slow walk back
Back into place
Then there is the mourning,
Mourning that unnamed thing, lost.
Lost forever by the act of discovery.

 

Author's Note

All comments and criticism welcome

Reviews

[Laz K.]

I've read this a few tines trying to take it all in.

First, there's the realization of conformity that breeds discontent.
Then, comes the desire to explore.
The poem suggests that we re fooling ourselves.
Disappointment follows, and disillusionment.
Maybe, it all just seemed so enticing and wonderful in our head?

I appreciate poems that speak of some deep realization - and this one certainly does that.
The imagery used throughout is very vivid and masterful as well.

[Delmar Cooper]

Thanks for reading and for your comments. I had the notion it was a loss of innocence poem pretty much.

[Frieda P]

I love how you color out of the lines, some great lines blurbed here, my favorite was...

So convinced, we break away, slip beneath the velvet rope,
Past guards lost in 'stuporous' dreams of cigarettes and coffee.

I mourn for poetry without depth, this hits upon that in blatant colors.

[Delmar Cooper]

Thank you so much. In primary school I received top marks for my precocious ability to "color within the lines." And, of course I spent the rest of my life regretting that "ability." Still if I contrive well enough sometimes a thing may pass a casual inspection. Practice, practice, practice, and we to can get to Seventh Avenue & West 57th Street.

Thanks for your kind words Frieda,
Cooper

[Frieda P]

Is that Broadway or Carnegie Hall? ;-) Was my pleasure to read your scribbles Cooper.