He's here again Winter Icing up the parlor window Blowing cold through Ancient cracks He frosts my plants I'm passed depressed Cannot gather effort To move them back
Presently Spring will come As she is wont to do And Winter he'll depart The eternal cycle thus Restarts Yet this time He'll hold his ground And wait it out Cold so cold Within my heart
I'm dwelling on it Why that is What has changed in me To make it so I'm not the same as when I was Burnt beyond ashes Inside Still I'm not certain that I want to know Who I was meant To be
Maybe it's years piling up A more impending doom Perhaps that last dream I lost No, I think not I'm sure I'll get through The ache will melt away Like morning frost I need it to happen soon But it's not to be
You see I got wise When I woke up Today and Realized No matter What I want What I try No matter what I do
I will always be In this place The winter of my life A me without a you
A very sad song, Brian. I believe you've moved beyond this gloom now and are appreciating life again. Spring does always come and no matter your age, you can rejoice in the world and its beauty. Your poetry is a gift to us all, and I'm sure creating it gives you much happiness. Write on!
Posted 11 Years Ago
1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
This comment has been deleted by the poster.
11 Years Ago
thank you for such kind words. I wrote this while renting a place in this huge century house in Stra.. read morethank you for such kind words. I wrote this while renting a place in this huge century house in Stratford. I had the parlour, the window was the original one, and huge! It was a bitter cold night, I moved my plants from the cold , then wrote this all in one shot. Long time ago. 7 years?
I wrote this looking at a frosted up, huge, window, in an old house, the window must have been close to a century old. I could see the thickness at its base, compared to the top. Glass flows like water, but ever so slowly. It had me thinking about a love that had ended badly. It worked for me.
I haven't loved since then. I haven't written much since then, as well. B
Winter....a state of mind as well as a season. The emotions are icy...the feelings are lonely. While the seasons change with the calendar pages, it is not quite so easy to change our state of mind, is it? A very real poem....one I enjoyed. Lydi**
Posted 8 Years Ago
1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
8 Years Ago
thank you so much for your review. You can really write, so it makes this all the more rewarding to .. read morethank you so much for your review. You can really write, so it makes this all the more rewarding to hear kind words from you. B
A very sad song, Brian. I believe you've moved beyond this gloom now and are appreciating life again. Spring does always come and no matter your age, you can rejoice in the world and its beauty. Your poetry is a gift to us all, and I'm sure creating it gives you much happiness. Write on!
Posted 11 Years Ago
1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
This comment has been deleted by the poster.
11 Years Ago
thank you for such kind words. I wrote this while renting a place in this huge century house in Stra.. read morethank you for such kind words. I wrote this while renting a place in this huge century house in Stratford. I had the parlour, the window was the original one, and huge! It was a bitter cold night, I moved my plants from the cold , then wrote this all in one shot. Long time ago. 7 years?
Like a few people who write a lot, I start with a snippet of reality that interests me, build an air castle from it, then write it down.
It is a dead easy process for me; I don't recommend it, unless you want to risk being mediocre, like me. I really am lazy about it all. Anyway.
Not this poem. For a year I had been with the woman with whom I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, happy in true love and all that bullshit.
Then boom, in a flash she is with another man. The lightening bolt caught me flush in the heart.
She pretty much crushed my spirit, which is where I was when this piece hit paper, so to speak.
Now, the new man had huge coin, I kinda understood, didn't like it, my self esteem survived.
Time does heal, and I am now happier that it ended quick, it could have been worse.
I never want to write another one of these taken whole cloth from my own life.
Very nice ending, showing us the symbolism here contained. I loved especially the stark contrast between the winter world you depict and the damage dealt inside which you describe as 'burnt to ashes'. That direct difference left something powerful with me. The rest of that stanza is also incredibly well-put; overall, a great read.
Such raw emotion to this piece. I could feel the coldness surrounding me and the desperation of the emotions. I was gripped with the lines, "I will always be in this place the winter of my life without a you".
I am catholic when it comes to poetry, anything goes and I honour every request. I might slip up once in awhile.
Anyway.
I appreciate those that write prose. I do not read or review prose requests... more..