There is an interesting facility provided here at WritersCafe.. it is the ability to link an image with the work. Clicking on the image, we see a girl and surroundings in shades of gray; the dress and shoes popping out at the viewer with a brilliant blue hue.
I often wonder if there isn't a subtle message offered up by the author when that choice of image-cum-writing is finally published. An addendum that provides yet another key to unlocking the mysteries of a piece. I'm going to go with that thought for now and fantasize on why the girl in the picture seems to be a part of the background with only form, texture and subtle shading to outline and define her features. Why do only the accouterments draw attention? What is the intention of the attention? Perhaps the answers lie in the lines of the poem. Let's see...
"Happiness flows - Perfection is seen..." ~ Perhaps the happiness and perfection is in reference to the artificial amplification of choices, of appearances that we make as we attempt to present ourselves to the world? A presentation that has at its core the need to love and be loved. How often is it the case that we feel like part of the background, gray, bland, ill-defined and unworthy of notice? We mimic nature and adopt a plumage that, in our minds, may help in the attainment of our most secret inner desires. We "crow" in imitation of those we observe having, seemingly, attained that to which we also aspire.
"Her perfect shows.. They're all a lie." ~ But as is pointed out here, "Her perfect shows.. They're all a lie." Perhaps not so much a lie as a strategy for success gone awry by succumbing to the power of numbers - the directive mass of the herds and flocks of society in which she gallops or flies.
"Her life is an empty shelf.. with no books" ~ The charge of an "empty shelf.. with no books" is somewhat harsh too for it is clear that the protagonist does indeed think; perhaps not with the same motives, goals, or lusts that another might choose but there is intelligent thought at work there none the less.
"I asked her who she was.. She didn't know anymore." ~ Finally, the moment of truth arrives and we begin to perhaps understand the brilliant blue, the S.O.S. signaled by this gray ship, run aground upon gray rock walls. In kindred spirit we ask who is she that now seems lost? The answer is... all of us.
A wonderful poem, D&M! Thought provoking and true to your nom de plume!
There is an interesting facility provided here at WritersCafe.. it is the ability to link an image with the work. Clicking on the image, we see a girl and surroundings in shades of gray; the dress and shoes popping out at the viewer with a brilliant blue hue.
I often wonder if there isn't a subtle message offered up by the author when that choice of image-cum-writing is finally published. An addendum that provides yet another key to unlocking the mysteries of a piece. I'm going to go with that thought for now and fantasize on why the girl in the picture seems to be a part of the background with only form, texture and subtle shading to outline and define her features. Why do only the accouterments draw attention? What is the intention of the attention? Perhaps the answers lie in the lines of the poem. Let's see...
"Happiness flows - Perfection is seen..." ~ Perhaps the happiness and perfection is in reference to the artificial amplification of choices, of appearances that we make as we attempt to present ourselves to the world? A presentation that has at its core the need to love and be loved. How often is it the case that we feel like part of the background, gray, bland, ill-defined and unworthy of notice? We mimic nature and adopt a plumage that, in our minds, may help in the attainment of our most secret inner desires. We "crow" in imitation of those we observe having, seemingly, attained that to which we also aspire.
"Her perfect shows.. They're all a lie." ~ But as is pointed out here, "Her perfect shows.. They're all a lie." Perhaps not so much a lie as a strategy for success gone awry by succumbing to the power of numbers - the directive mass of the herds and flocks of society in which she gallops or flies.
"Her life is an empty shelf.. with no books" ~ The charge of an "empty shelf.. with no books" is somewhat harsh too for it is clear that the protagonist does indeed think; perhaps not with the same motives, goals, or lusts that another might choose but there is intelligent thought at work there none the less.
"I asked her who she was.. She didn't know anymore." ~ Finally, the moment of truth arrives and we begin to perhaps understand the brilliant blue, the S.O.S. signaled by this gray ship, run aground upon gray rock walls. In kindred spirit we ask who is she that now seems lost? The answer is... all of us.
A wonderful poem, D&M! Thought provoking and true to your nom de plume!
I loved this so very much! Though it also makes me sad. teenagers,in general, are so worried about fitting in, about being cool, that they lose themselves to become what everyone wants or expects. Very nice.
not knowing who you are anymore seems like a good place to start to come out from behind those curtains of perfectionism and the more you do it the more real you become. This is an insightful write, honest and vulnerable. Totally open to the idea of self improvement through change. Excellent work.