silver frame

I love you like tomorrow
   with all its promise and wing and wind.

I am no goddess, no Athena, no Helena in desperate pursuit.
    I have no menagerie to tame,
             no soul to calm.  
  

I am your soft underbelly,
 the phantom sweep of your eyes,
     the span of your hands,
      the expanse of your laugh,
        the catch in your breath.

I know you desire me.
Like a new day, you wish
              to unfold me,
                   to fit me comfortably between the empty spaces,
    packed tightly through your life.

I am transitional and non repentant.
  I've survived a holocaust.

My mother died with my breath, in her lungs.
     I held final silence beneath my hands.
  
 How much more should I die?

Purged of fear,
  I've been reborn, in a great sweeping meadow of yellow hay,
          bramble and wild deer, I've spanned generations,
              and crossed barriers of my own making.
           I've given myself to fate and man
           I am grace, beauty
            and boundless energy.

   I am a soothsayer,
a zealot,
    a merchant selling light.

I am your parched spirit.

I love you like yesterday,
 like a flaming torch,
  a passionate night,
   a steady touch,
    a restful sleep.
I love you like a yellowed picture
                      in a perfect silver frame.

Reviews

[Stormii]

- I love it.!

[Eagle Cruagh]

He has left a perfect vision
as his memory yellows in its frame.
He was never able to deliver
but she has the frame.
--- John

[Mauricio Montoya]

Love is in the air, I like how this piece comes together especially:

I am no goddess, no Athena, no Helena in desperate pursuit.
    I have no menagerie to tame,
             no soul to calm.  
  
Great combination,
Excellent write.

[Richard Layne]

compelling.

[Kenneth The Poet]

A poetic depth unlike any other. A woman's hand can be as tender and soothing and as hard as nails when scorned. You have a new fan.

[Ness of Love]

Very lovely!

[Noa]

Woah. I am again amazed by your thoughts.

Before I start going into the content, I want to compliment you on your effort regarding the visuals of this poem. With the 'reverse-staircase' lines you build up emotion to a peak, before you descend back down and start new thoughts and feelings. It really strings the reader along, and makes it pretty hard (if not impossible) to stop reading halfway through.

Right, that said, I wish I could look into your mind when you wrote this. Your vocabulary astounds me, as you've managed to create such complex feelings with such understandable, clear wording.

The only tip I can come up with now is to check the syllables of your words, and if they fit within the stanza you are writing according to the flow. Since you start off with mostly one or two syllable words, the word 'underbelly' comes in kind of cold. This can be something personal though, and I can see how it would be a challenge to think of different words to describe that particular image.

I think that you have achieved one of the most beautiful things in poetry (in my opinion). You have managed to convey feelings that cannot be put into words. I think of it as a painting. You can't convey the image of a tree by showing people colors. You can, however, work with those colors to create an image that will make someone think of a tree. I hope I'm not being too confusing.

Wonderful work. Thank you for sharing.
-Noa

[Wolfwind]

To stare and gaze through the frames of existence, we see the multitudes, hear the myriad of voices calling and remember the most fractal moments of time's sweet grace upon the earth. For that is was a frame holds, the glory of the past, the embrace of the now, and the hope of the future.

Amazing Ink!

Aaron =)

[~ Stefanie ~]

This was really beaultiful! Well done

[The Winter Grey]

Beautiful. Every stanza, every word fits together perfectly. Also - and don't take this lightly, I know I bring it up in most of my reviews but it is integral to good poetry - your imagery is phenomenal.