Coloured Perspective

Free-verse poem

“Forget everything. Open the windows. Clear the room. The wind blows through it.
You see only its emptiness, you search in every corner and don’t find yourself.”

~ Franz Kafka

An abstract archeus

wandering the labyrinth

of intricacies

which lie beyond words

of imposing vernacular

 

Drifting in a sea

of contradiction

roaring ideas, lulling ideals

precious in their pure purpose

and primordial lack thereof

with such crushing beauty

and shattering despair

no agnostic or rational mind

could ever comprehend

this sense... of aesthetics

 

Words:

revolting bane of errant soul

penned with culminating distaste

for senescent intentions corrupted

like photographs embalming

vile vestiges, mimicked memory

parodied under pretense

of remembrance

reminiscence

evanescence...

a moment’s essence

...flickers out

 

How lonely must ‘LOVE’ feel

confined within four letters

secluded to solitary syllable

That despite the ardor

in my every fervent whisper

you’ll never feel more

than empty breath

 

Syntax, Semantics, Semiotics:

constrain the abstract

is that why they feel so devoid

of the meanings they tether?

Can ‘LOVE’ be more than letters?

 

A love that will never see within

abstruse souls, each vain breath

distorted through the veneer

of echoed utterance...

esoteric perspective

...unspoken

 

You said,

“I wish I was yellow,

like a sun burning bright

So you will never drift away

From someone, like me.”

 

“Why am I bland sienna?

A clump of useless dirt

fated to wander the cosmos--alone

too insignificant

to keep you.”

 

But to me, you ARE the Sun

Never constrained

with word or colour

because your light

holds everything from maroon

to violet; even your envied yellow

But it holds… so much more

 

More than just colours

reflected for the world

If Red is passion,

Yellow: your unbroken smile

Green: a comforting embrace

Indigo: those moments

we can be alone…

Than what of Radio to Gamma?

 

I want the whole spectrum

Sorrow and Joy; Fear and Hope

...Indistinguishable

Pain and Longing...

Those things that feel

so real. they are immaterial

More than just some pretty hues

in a cursory rainbow

I could draw with a crayon

Those indescribable impressions

never harried within letters

Pervasive as they are pure

like petrichor of purifying showers

under a Peruvian sky

never seen, only felt

Reminding me of how

I want every facet of you

in my life

Author's Note

Wrote this during my lunch break at work; just sorta spewed out a lot of different things that have been on my mind. I realize that it may come across as hodgepodge, very loosely connected... but right now it all feels very related for me. That feeling that words can never be enough, and trying to convey to someone that they are more than they give themselves credit...

Reviews

[Stonz P.]

I rarely find free-verse here, then the good ones are even harder to find. This is certainly the of the rare type. Your use of vocabulary is very exact as well as eccentric. The flow is there, the imagery is there and the transformation from one topic to the other whilst remaining connected to each other is also present. Very good write, Nusquam Bhai and I can totally relate to the 'hodgepdge' sensation, because 90% of the time, my works are a result of automatic writing.. I have to concentrate a lot on it to bring out the true intended (subconscious, if I may say,) meaning. I can understand how you must have crafted it afterwards.. Bravo!!

[Nusquam Esse]

You flatter me with this review sir. Free-verse is my most recent venture in writing, so it sometimes feels odd to write; but this one seemed to have a mind of its own. The editing was fairly minimal (I mostly just trimmed out and rearranged a couple lines). My first few times going over it I was worried it was all too disconnected; but now I am feeling a bit more satisfied with it--even if it felt like the pen couldn't keep up with my mind. *sigh* sometimes I wish I had something which could take my thoughts and convey them exactly as I desired.

[Stonz P.]

Haha. That is the magic of free verse: it seems to possess a life of its own.. foremost reason why I chose to boycott the "rules of poetry" and write poems freely as they are meant to be. It can sing a thousand tunes in a single line.. For me, free verse is directly related to my spirit (both, soul and mood); sometimes, I call it 'Spirit Verse' because it directly comes from some unexplored niche inside me..
I hope you enjoy it.

[Nusquam Esse]

hah, I try many different forms, depending on my mood. If nothing else, learning rhyme and meter can improve your poetry in general... but I think it is also important to embrace the free-flow of words. And yes, I definitely enjoy it.

[Stonz P.]

I tried rhyme and meter and it just was not meant for me; I mean, I felt bad, uneasy, like I had caged the words. The only time I found it useful and not mentally unsettling, like you said, was when exercising on various forms and not doing any serious work.
But that's just my opinion. I've read so many good poems on this site and of course, otherwise which were immersed in rhyme and meter and whatnots.. Learned so much from them.

[Malen]

I absolutely love reading what you've poured out.
Free and unfiltered, you weave words eloquently.

[jzadski]

Absolutely beautiful writing as always. I'm always astonished of how well written your works are, and I love the fact this was done over your lunch break. That takes true talent and passion, especially in the way you right. Great work x

[Nusquam Esse]

Most of my stuff has been based on ideas, but this one was more just impressions and emotions... which is odd for me since I am usually not that way. Anyway, it was all pent up, so the pen was having a hard time keeping up. I was worried it would end up an incoherent mess. Thanks for reading, I am glad that you enjoyed.

[Woody]

phew!!!! witchcraft. and during your lunch break, too!
are you familiar with that belief that some great magicians or artists are helped by demons? I'm thinking about Led Zepplin, for instance. stairway to heaven. so, a thought just struck me. is this really you writing?

[Nusquam Esse]

I made a Faustian pact with Mephistopheles, in exchange for my immortal soul, he will show me all the wonders of existence which exist outside the realm of man's understanding.

[Woody]

hahaha. that wouldn't suprise me.

[Nusquam Esse]

hahahaha, nah... Turns out that my soul wasn't much of a bartering chip. Instead Mephisto gave it to me in exchange for me not showing up upon death at the gates of hell. Sigh* I don't know if I should be grateful, or disappointed that even hell doesn't want me. *shrug

[Woody]

oh come now, you're being hard on yourself. I'm sure Satan will welcome you with open arms. he'll use you to torture the wretched souls with your "heavy" stuff :)

[Nusquam Esse]

Turns out that Hell is a lot like the workplace, if you are too competent at your job you never get promoted, since they don't want to be replaced... in my case, they don't even want to hire me.

[Woody]

lol that's funny. thank god I don't have that problem, as a teacher.

[Rene Salinas]

What can I say really for me this writing is so much something that I freely choose to read it. As I went throurgh especially the semantical inquisition posed, it invigorated me to a degree of fullfilment. I felt understood by what you wrote, I hope that make sense. The nature of words is such that knowing them and using them must be accompanied by meaning otherwise they fall short. It would not matter then what kind of juggling we do they will always feel lonely without the meaning that can only come through active will or actions if one must. And so this words seem to be directed to another human being but that is just a guess as it is not clear to me.

Resounding writing very beautiful.

Thankyou

[Nusquam Esse]

Thanks for reading as always Rene. You are correct, this is directed to the most important person in my life right now... someone who struggles with finding the worth in themselves that I see. I often struggle with finding the words to convey just how important they are to me, that they are special, and that my intentions are pure and directed to a future with them... But for someone who has lived in a world where words are just words with no true meaning... It is difficult to get them to see, to believe. But to not carry through with what I say, to betray it, it would not just be betraying them, but also betraying myself, and everything I stand for. I just feel frustrated with how little power words can have, and often sit awake at night, too restless to sleep... wishing there was a way to show myself and my feelings past the words that seem so inadequate. *sigh

[Beccy]

A million words, a single glance across a crowded room. It matters not the how of communication, as long as it is done.

Beccy.

[Lyn Anderson]

They do not come across as unrelated at all. I may have formatted them differently, but you have your own style. I like this, but I can't describe it better than you already did ...

[Nusquam Esse]

Thanks for reading, and I am glad that you could at least see some connection. I was just sort of vomiting thoughts onto paper, and sometimes my mind is moving faster than the words can, and it can make an incoherent mess.

[AprilRN1210]

I am pretty speechless with this one...your mind blows me away sometimes... think I will leave it at that..

[Nusquam Esse]

Well, if it made you speechless, hopefully it was for all the right reasons, and not just because I used confusing English... :P As for my mind, it only manages to blow people away in those rare moments that it is actually working at full capacity. Leave it at that? I see how it is... ;) Ba Bak!

[Jennie Baron]

How on earth did you write this during a lunch break? It's absolutely astounding. As always you have chosen your words with precision, artfulness and clarity. A definite pleasure to read. At first I thought it was a little disconnected when you shifted from talking about the nature of words to talking about love, but it didn't take long to understand; words can be so frustrating and inadequate to express love. Overall, I'm amazed and envious that I didn't write such a poem myself! :)

[Nusquam Esse]

Something just clicked while I was at work, and the second I went to lunch I threw my feet up on a chair, leaned back, and frantically penned what came to mind until I ran out of time. I thought this one turned out well considering that I wrote it in an hour, without any tools. I did do a quick double-check on my word-choices (since I am often paranoid if the first word that came to mind is correct), but otherwise left it as it was on paper. It is frustrating for me, because it feels like there are a lot of concepts which just plain and simply cannot be harrowed by words... and even when it does feel like you can, it never feels sufficient to convey the idea to someone else. I know if probably seems absurd coming from me, since you praise me for my precise and clear word-choices. Ironic that I write, considering my general distaste for words (like the way I referred to them in one of my stories as 'faustian eidolons' and a desire to be an 'iconoclast' who can break out of them.) I think that is why several of my favourite stories are ones that try and tell most of their story in the words they do not use, aiming more for an abstract impression than by conveying precise meaning. Hah, I did say that it was all a bit... mmm... motley? But I am glad that upon finishing you could still feel a connection; although this could possibly do better as two separate poems... Thank you always for reading, and for the words of encouragement. To wish you had expressed something in a similar manner; that is the apex of compliments, so I appreciate it.