Looking In

Can you see my fingers pressed

tight and white on window recessed?

A roaring heat eternally contained,

yet transmitted not through the pane.

The others inside are wary

of the fire-bird canary,

but they cannot mine the marble

without its thrumming warble.

I press forlorn the hollow in my chest

where life's light would burrow best,

stare at their self-immolative antics

waiting for my turn to play phoenix.

Oh how beautifully it would hurt,

to writhe in agony on that dirt

'til gritty dust coats every inch

of sweaty skin that I might pinch.

Out here I can dance and bow

about an imagined Pyrrhic glow,

but I grow weary of my fruitless show.

I long to grasp those essential embers,

just once before I forsake my brothers.

Author's Note

Never posted any of my writing online before, and never written poetry before! What say you all?

Reviews

[Elnnes Scholtz]

Your poem beautifully captures the complex emotions of longing and isolation. The imagery of the speaker pressed against the window creates an immediate sense of separation, while the “fire-bird canary” evokes both beauty and danger, reflecting the risk of embracing one’s passions.

I love how you contrast the speaker’s internal struggle with the frenetic energy of those inside, showcasing the tension between desire and disillusionment. Phrases like “writhe in agony” and “Pyrrhic glow” deepen the emotional weight, highlighting the sacrifices involved in pursuing connection.

Your use of vivid metaphors invites readers to reflect on their own experiences of yearning and identity. This poem is not only powerful but also resonant, leaving a lasting impression. Thank you for sharing such a poignant piece of art!

Warmly,
Elnnes