In Ruin

These stones hold

pockets of tears, of

sweat, of longing~

hopes long dead and 

gone.

In the dust

an inkling, an echo

of something long forgotten...

I scoop it up

in my palms,

cover myself in ash~

try to remember,

condense all

the moments into one

small blink.

Flakes of snow, of skin

on my eyelids

so heavy, so cold

they may never open.

Moss covered lids

so hard,

I might never be able

to pull them away.

Walk along this path,

make a trail in the

dust I leave...

blow me a kiss.

Reviews

[Creepy Swine Guy]

It seems that the picture seems very important to reading this poem. I didn't quite understand until I saw it

"These stones hold
pockets of tears, of
sweat, of longing~
hopes long dead and
gone."

By "These stones" I think you mean the stones upon which she lies now. The stones that have caught those tears and that sweat and the hope. All perhaps trickled through and dripped away.


"In the dust
an inkling, an echo
of something long forgotten...?

Yes ... that's where the tears & hope & sweat dissipated and dried up.

"I scoop it up
in my palms,
cover myself in ash~
try to remember,
condense all
the moments into one
small blink."

I sense a change here, The first voice felt like the fallen, weathered angel ... this voice feels like someone standing over her ... maybe mourning her.

"Flakes of snow, of skin
on my eyelids
so heavy, so cold
they may never open."

Flakes of skin (VERY strong visual) The paint chipping away as it would over time ... that which vanquished her??

"Moss covered lids
so hard,
I might never be able
to pull them away."

Pull the lids away??? Open them? never open them ??? That smacks of mortality ... death.

"Walk along this path,
make a trail in the
dust I leave...
blow me a kiss."

This feels like the Angel again. Is she saying don't forget hope???


You make me work ... you force me to bend my mind and try to understand. I fight it, but I am better for it.

[Kristina Moulaison]

Wow, you were working here! Kudos! This is all very close to what I was thinking. The only thing I care to point out that is different than my thoughts is the end...the trail of dust I leave is a little metaphorical. I imagine those who come after me walking the same ground that I walked and feeling or seeing something that I left behind and remembering me. I love old things, stone structures, old houses. The house I live in is more than 100 years old. Things that are able to survive us, who hole a history longer than a single individual hold a special charm to me. As if they literally hold secrets within, that if I listen very closely I may be able to catch an echo. I love trees for this reason, their longevity, their rings of remembering...that if I could unlock their secrets, see through their eyes, I would be able to glimpse eternity. Just a romantic poet's longing. : )

[Creepy Swine Guy]

I did work at this review. People wonder why I don't race about and leave reviews like Ann Coulter leaves insults. This is why [smile] What I left in black and white here is what I do with every poem I review. Someone took their time to heave the heavy words of what they feel into place, chisel away that which wasn't just as they wanted it and dust off what remained. I owe it to them, if I am going to leave a comment to REALLY try to see what they had in their heart, mind and soul that they so worked to share with me and only THEN offer comment. I just cannot bring myself to be flitting about it. So when I don't comment on something, NEVER means I didn't like it, Just means I need to give it more consideration, give it it's due. I am an odd old man. Regarding the additional information about the last few lines ... thank you so much. THAT additional bit of information completes the picture for me. Thank you for adding it.

[Kristina Moulaison]

That's really very sweet. I'm sure you took longer with your review than I took to write this, so now I'm a bit of a shmuck. Oh well, you make my words seem special and that's really nice.

[Kristina Moulaison]

I do take the time to add punctuation just for you though, so...that's something.

[Creepy Swine Guy]

I SHOULD take longer. you know what's in the soul of your words. I have to find out. It's only natural that I should take longer.

[Kristina Moulaison]

Alright then. Thank you!

[Petmeds]

This rings of unrequited love. It seems that you ache to hear the stories the dust and stones have and they only whisper hints. And in time we will be the ones whispering.
I liked it...

[Kristina Moulaison]

Well said, you know me too well! I was pinning ruins to Pinterest. I do want to know their stories and it will be us one day...doing the whispering, nice! Thanks Honey!

[Frieda P]

This is heavy in effect and affect. There's passion in your words, yet a depression that languishes here. I really love this piece. 'blow me a kiss' lovely.

[Kristina Moulaison]

Thank you very much! Passionate and depressing. I felt that way about it too. :)

[@]

This is solid writing.
Covering yourself in ash conjures an elemental, ancient force I find compelling. Condensing all moments into a small blink I happen to know too well.
I think you've achieved a highly praiseworthy piece.

[Kristina Moulaison]

Thank you so much for this review...I really appreciate it. Not sure how I missed this before and didn't thank you.

[quinfinn]

Misty, this is beautiful. it paints vivid and colorful pictures and is so nicely worded. one thing....did you mean "inkling" in the second stanza? this is superb writing...don't let one little misspell taint it..... love this!!!!!

[Kristina Moulaison]

Thanks so much...especially the correction! Appreciate it!