Light on Bricks

Light on bricks, the sun has hit them
Making them bright
Showing their hidden textures
Ruddy red, dull red and brown

Shining with cement blanched white
Rough-stone and hard each one
Give their own unique reflections
In the angled morning sun

One or two in the masses are black
And they gleam so beautifully
Shining a unique darkness
Giving a dull and quiet brilliance

Every wall in every street has bricks
And they are lost to the billions
As passing eyes do not see them
Their dazzling display unnoticed

Author's Note

‘To see beauty in the mundane is an appreciation of life’

Reviews

[willweb]

I have always enjoyed seeing buildings of brick lining a street. There is something about the patterns of the bricks that mesmerizes me. I am really into patterns and brick walls is a good place to look. Your note is correct though, as a poet I think we see beauty everywhere and in most everything. Nicely done Leigh.

[JessyJacob]

Nice lines how you wrote. Inspiring, which will move anyone.

[Fabian G. Franklin]

This is an interesting observation on the seemingly mundane. I have a poem titled, "On the Bricks" that I wrote in 2006 and posted here a few times so the title certainly caught my eye. Yours is more to the direct observation while my write is a bit more encompassing. I enjoyed the read and the author's different perspective on a similar observation. Well done. F.

[Robert Haigh]

Every mundane thing has its own special poetic beauty. We should slow down sometimes, and take in what is around us. The poet can do the same thing, by writing about such things - as you have done here!

[Chris Shaw]

I returned for a second time to read this very observational piece of poetry. I like it as much now as I did two years ago. Great work. Sunlight has a way of making the mundane and ugly seem beautiful.

Chris

[Kathy Van Kurin]

'Light on Bricks'
Leigh,
There is so much which may be missed. Attention arrested by something else. I guess we within our busyness or tiredness only so much is driven to the front of one's attention. This poem is like that. Something caught your attention I wonder what was going on in your mind on the day this was written?
Blessings to you.
Kathy

[Ted Kniffen]

Much like not seeing the forest for the trees...things we see every day seem to blend into the background.

Your piece does a good job of describing bricks...hopefully on houses, since that is not mentioned...for years bricks were handmade...

P.S. Churchill was a bricklayer...it was his hobby.

[Wild Rose]

I used bricks unearthed from our garden as we worked to landscape and level a space for sitting - to line the edges of the new patio made with manufactured slabs and paths made from natural stone slabs also unearthed during the work
"Throw those out and get some new ones" comment from the next door builder Were ignored by me
Now all have blended together nicely

[Chris Shaw]

A brick in a wall. I went to many places with your lines. Music and film included. I imagine standing before a wall and meditating. Slowing right down and taking all the detail in. Sunlight can cast a magic spell on so much and make even the mundane appear beautiful. I enjoyed where your lines took me. Thank you.

Chris

[barleygirl]

I started out being a straightforward writer, altho I've been trying to be less literal . . . so I do appreciate how your writing is mostly literal & straightforward. Your imagery is easy to visualize, given your description, & we can also easily grasp the analogy your image conveys. I love that we can be considered as if being made from bricks & how many of our bricks are totally overlooked or misunderstood. This is the strong core of your message. I still think you could do more word play, however. Just changing one word, here & there, can make all the difference. For example end of V2: "angled morning sun" is something we can all imagine . . . it's simple, it happens all the time. But if you changed it to "angled sun sparkles" . . . see how it's much more dynamic & uniquely stated? You could stand to have a little more fun with the words you choose. This is a process that happens as you read & write, falling in love with finding unexpected words, etc. I'm not saying this is a critique of this poem, but more that this is one way you can progress from here (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie