A stone’s throw away can feel like the other side of the planet when two are not completely singing from the same hymn sheet. Heart, soul and mind otherwise love is doomed. I felt some pain here J. Beautifully penned.
I don't throw stones at glass houses, andrew, I live in one myself.
thank you,
j.
11 Months Ago
I was using a glass house as a metaphor for a broken heart. Oh well I got this one wrong . A house .. read moreI was using a glass house as a metaphor for a broken heart. Oh well I got this one wrong . A house with those extra large windows?
11 Months Ago
I got your metaphor, you can never be wrong with poetry...and my house has all its windows busted ou.. read moreI got your metaphor, you can never be wrong with poetry...and my house has all its windows busted out.
j.
This poem could be the prequel to the song that begins, If you want to be happy for the rest of your life. I am pretty certain you know the rest, Jacob.
Winston
Posted 11 Months Ago
11 Months Ago
Ah yes, Jimmy Soul...I do know the rest...
"and from my particular point of view get...." read moreAh yes, Jimmy Soul...I do know the rest...
"and from my particular point of view get...."
Thank you for the smile, Winston.
j.
I read this from the point of view of the jewel. It wasn't love and passion, heartaches and human feelings that were constantly the objects of our main attention, but rather the objects that lingered and were left behind. We're seeing evidence to suggest a tale of unfortunate has occurred but knows little of what did transpire. It's as if we were trying to peer into a person's heart and were shunned away by said person out of their inconvenience, we were denied the details thus making it unique and imaginative.
The poem is as a puff of smoke from a burned cigarette, who smoked it? And with whom? We'd never know, and the air of transient mystery arouses our mind to explore the tale of our individual desires and lead to individual interpretations. Wonderous.
Oh, such a sad lilt to this tale of a *love* ending poorly, or perhaps it never really existed at all. For love to abide, there need be a connection of the mind and spirit as well as the physical connection. Love without the combination of both elements is destined to die.
Originally from Bronx, NY, I live in Carbondale, Illinois...teach English at a community college and have been writing and publishing poetry since 1970. I am here to read for inspiration from other po.. more..