Mandolin

Now that you play your mandolin

the air sways in violent season

 

I too have scars

grass stained graveyards

where my heart withers in dust

 

It’s not a place I prefer

to walk in delirium

nor to be this shattered glass

that no one can break

 

To be what I am stares off enough 

to be less seems an ocean on its knees

 

but I know the road back 

and what home from hell

awaits

 

so play out your mandolin 

let the old bullets pierce

if you aim willingly

then willing is the last gift I'll share...

Reviews

[John Alexander McFadyen]

This is written in a powerful tone with a mix of anger, resignation and sadness. The oppening lines are sublime and are the door to your well written verse.

[Perdition]

Well it's been a long life..and thank you John~ Glad to have your input as always and absolutely no doubt...sometimes you just have to let things out before they tear you to shreds..one line or glass at a time..thankfully I have the pen~

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Good to read you again after all this time.

[barleygirl]

This is very powerful writing . . . I can see how Aurora's comment fits about this being a survivor's tale. Between the lines I sense the narrator saying: I may let you close again, but you won't hurt me again. "grass stained graveyards" is an amazingly brief phrase that paints a big scene . . . I see someone spending much time kneeling in grass. "shattered glass that no one can break" is a delicious contradiction (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[Perdition]

And not a breast to be found,,,lol. No, I adore the female anatomy and your poem as well so don't get me wrong.. I also appreciate you coming here and seeing what I spill and in many ways hold back. I suppose we all reach that point later in life, through experience, pain and loss until a worthy heart breaks through our shields (if we are lucky)...just that little light, bearing in, allows a broken animal to reach out for the light in trust and to a hand worth holding ...someday I might even get there myself..hahaha. Thanks Margie and ((Hugs))~

[Aurora]

This seems like a survivor's tale. I like it.

[Perdition]

Thank you Aurora...you're right, it is a survivor's tale. We are all granted them at some point or another I think as nothing lasts forever...still, to know the road back home is of wonderful help. Smiles~

[lightsong]

first, I must tell You that I stole Your photo, You know me and the Butterflies so thank You lol. This sounds so much for me like the tunes of the flute, the flute that is made from reeds, my father used to made it and play with it, the amount of sorrows that You can feel though these tunes is more than great, it grips Your heart and cut it slowly, bringing every emotion up and up, until suddenly Your tears may fall, I imagine and feel it here too, and I imagine an old man playing the Mandolin along his memories, the tunes and memories become one, You and Him become one in sadness, somewhere too in Your lines I sensed a soldier bringing his battle's memories with the melodies, well we all are Warriors in life aren't we?

[Perdition]

We all are Warriors in life? ..an interesting thought and of course thank you for the kind review but I seem to be stuck in that statement as some turn away from the battle while others carry the sword or pen or whatever and without remorse though certainly facing fear and willing their death with a wanting to leave not a single thing unsaid or tried..no glory without the fight...still I suppose even the scattering of empty scars are warriors in their own way. A wonderful discussion for the evening before battle..."once more into the breech" and as every night we darken the lights for the unknown, the unknowing and what becomes come morning ...well ...only the drums and future will know of the outcome..."tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow..."
I would say we are many masks worn from life..Warrior, Victim, Son, Daughter, General, Corporal...etc...but "Warrior"?..what is it to be a warrior. At first glance I would agree...but the definition begs discussion...Perhaps the single breath alone is in the courage. So much enough to tender the title of Warrior. ..GIVE ME BACK MY PHOTO!!..lol. Thank you Light..I hope you enjoy it as it is 5 minutes to midnight or so it would imply in that photo. And the butterflies or moths tell a story of the ending as well. There is so much in your reviews to review...haha..Sincerely enjoy the mind awakening to each one so thank you once more. May give that statement more thought as you know I will..or must.

[lightsong]

You leave no room for me to speak, do YOU? lol I think that chet and chat like with such important supjects is not enough, I might even break my fingers before finsh talking, maybe one day we could meet for some coffee , but still I'm afraid that our voices will raise and the waiters will have to kick us out lol

Warriors, fighters in our Souls yes it's true, not a Warriors with sowrds and voliences, then why we are here if not to raise our spirits, our divinity... we need to get rid of these masks that life wore it on us, hiding underneath our true essence, the body is a frame that holds our true self, it locks it if we didn't learn how to open and set it free, mind, heart and soul.

enjoy Your dawn? I believe, and thank You for not killing me stealing Your photo,

[Perdition]

The problem therein lies that we don't always know about our masks..we wear them for a reason and our mind has a wonderful way of protecting ourselves from ourselves, from pain, from so many things we are easily swayed into roles we don't necessarily realized but there we are...raise it all by all means..HERE! HERE!! but what of those that never realize the battle in that way and fall away w/out...Yeah..most definitely get kick out but HEY!..Another battle..lol. Gotta get deep into Jung
and his psyche and the "Shadow" archetype he gave us or Freud and cocaine or too many philosophers to mention (although Existentialism would be a great start) to take on these subject matters..Yep, most definitely at least a great meditational statement though. And thanks ..it is dawn..I assume its October there? haha..thanks again~ ;)

[jacob erin-cilberto]

"and the mandolin wind, didn't change a thing" (rod stewart)

play your instrument, play me as that instrument...
old bullets like memories piercing the heart, the bullseye..

they knock us down, but sooner or later we wear that vest...
wistful write that touches deeply.
j.

[Perdition]

That song has been in my head all day...
Hoping to go at least one life around without the damn vest. Just take the ride and risk, always a madhatted option..."and the mandolin wind..." haha Thanks once again j.