Wilted Soul

I wrote this when I was 20 in 1968. Thought I would share it exactly as it was written. Freestyle Poetry

Wilted Soul

Grey Streets - Grey People ...

Severed fingers;

that's all that lingers.

A glucose bottle reviving a wilted soul.

Another moment of life 

to be wasted with eyes closed.

Veins exposed - blue and purple.

Hearts exposed - empty.

Author's Note

If you happen to read my poem I would appreciate a review.
I always review what I read.
Thank you,
Lisa

Reviews

[carl]

One of the things I enjoy about reading poetry is the way it brings to the surface ones feelings and thought that lie just below the surface waiting for a little oxygen to bring them to the surface.
"Another moment of life to be wasted with eyes closed. " This line in particular has that effect on me. Should have been clear to someone at the point of writing that you had a talent for expression. Thanks for the post - carl

[Lisasview]

What a very nice thing to say about my writing... I so appreciate it...
Thank you so much,read moreWhat a very nice thing to say about my writing... I so appreciate it...
Thank you so much,
Lisa

[Red Brick Keshner]

Very visual and quite potent there. The sense of disconnectedness is quite strong as well: the "severed fingers" that linger and the wasting of moments in life by closed eyes. Loving the striking images of the glucose bottle and exposed veins which contrast with the empty greyness... Glad you kept the poem as is, Lisa. This has stood Time's test.
Freds.

[Lisasview]

I feel so fortunate that so many reviewers have brought up points in my old poem that I had not thought of.
Jacob said something about the word wasted ... a double meaning and now you say severed fingers are the disconnection from life... Of course I can not remember what I was thinking or feeling at that time...too bad I never added notes ...but I find it fascinating to revisit it now and see how it affects me.
Thank you again dear Freds,
Lisa

[W. Barrett Munn]

This reminds me of my emotions at that same or similar age. Interesting to see your own thoughts as another’s words.

Winston

[Lisasview]

Hi Winston,
Glad you related to my words... And, I am so glad I was able to write down...in pencil on paper ... what I felt at that moment.. I read what Jacob said in his review about wasted and realised for the first time that wasted really is a double indranda...
Thank you so much for your review,
Lisa

[emmajoygreen]

You have laid the very feelings I'm experiencing right now. I thought the easing of the pandemic would bring liberty along with warmth - a generic cure for '.. Veins exposed - blue and purple. Hearts exposed - empty.' Seems the living and their souls have far more to keep hidden or, alternately need think of what, how, why and where.. What a fine poet you are..

[Lisasview]

Wow, I am so glad to my poem which I wrote when I was 20 years old... things really never change... we all just need to move on and make the best of what we have...
Many might think this now is the worst ever ... but it is not...
Thank you dear Emmajoy for reading and reviewing,
Lisa

[emmajoygreen]

No, they don't - any more than people do. Strange world - time has no place in it, truth to be know. Stay safe, take care.

[Lisasview]

You too sweetie...
Lisa

[emmajoygreen]

Thank you... at least not 'kiddo'!

[Lisasview]

You make me laugh..
Lisa

[emmajoygreen]

That's my aim! Was recently called that and really not sure how to take it, so I didn't! Sad to say.

[Lisasview]

I think it is probably meant as a kind expression... When I was very young I was working somewhere...on the phone and a woman (on the phone) called me honey... and, I went home pretty upset because I thought it was very strange that since she did not know me that she would call me honey...
Lisa

[emmajoygreen]

Have to disappear now but read your message and smiled.. thank you for helping me feel more like me. Some would say, 'Please let her change!'

Tarrah for now, honey!! I know, bad me. :)

[emmajoygreen]

Calling in, truly hoping that things are better, much happier and all else positive. Sending smiles and a touch of joyful wishes come true,

[Lisasview]

You are so dear... I am going to hopefully post something soon...
Lisa

[emmajoygreen]

You look after yourself, please. Will also be taking a short break as from tomorrow - so we'll get together in that wine-bar over who knows where but us!

[light and ashes]

Very very nice.
I like it, well done.

[Lisasview]

So glad you like it... Thank you for the review...
Lisa

[light and ashes]

yep, you are welcome.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

this poem is so important...being 20 years old...we get into moods to write about this.
I was 20 in 1970...and I was at SIU trying to understand the world...the draft, Vietnam War...
so many questions, so much grey area of life...so few answers at the time.
I started writing in 1970...I think as the writing grew, I grew with it.
Definitely a lifeline...

[Lisasview]

Oh my two excellent reviews... Thank you so very much...
Writing has always been a part of me and I too feel it helped me grow...
Thank you again for your review,
Lisa

[jacob erin-cilberto]

it doesn't matter...the hands that reached out got severed...some don't want to come out of the dark alley...they are accustomed now...the drugs, the blue and purple veins, wasted is the only sanctuary...
the grey area between reality and delusion widens so that he or she can no longer tell the difference.
a short piece with tons of impact.
j.

[Lisasview]

Yes, you are so right... I had so much going on at 20 but then again really nothing going on at all...if that makes sense... but as I write this I think about why I may have written this as you have brought up some good points... Yes, most likely I was thinking of the many people that were addicted.. perhaps that is were I got the idea... and, of course the crazy war... and school and work and so on.
You say wasted is the only sanctuary which is a different take on the word wasted... and I realise that is most likely not what I meant... probably meant lost... but wasted works so well here...meaning...out of it...
Gosh, this is great now I am scrutinising my old poem... feels good... thank you,
Lisa

[Chris Shaw]

The imagery is bleak and stark in your photograph Lisa, but my eyes quickly found the light. You paint a picture with your words of lost hope. The image of severed fingers, I found a jolt to my system this morning. You write this as a young person. I can imagine how you
felt, that some waste their lives and do not look for opportunities to improve their plight, but accept it. Your talent at twenty shines through. Have a great day.

Chris

[Lisasview]

Wow, Chris, your review gave me goosebumps...
Yes, I was quite young ...but luckily things changed...
Lisa

[1809 Black Plague Decem..]

Dear, Lisaview,
I love the photography. It goes so much with your prose,
It is perfection. The streets of grey and people of grey, great linear advance,
It is like a black and white move, and a beautiful comes in and is odd
odd in sense of making outself delusional, ourstelf non a avid scenery of grey with beautiful, there so much more, won't say, I love it! love it! ---Maynard.

[Lisasview]

Hi Maynard,
I had a feeling you might like this one.
I was so young and pretty naive.
I am so glad you understand why I chose that particular image...
The poem itself is a metaphor for hopelessness... the feeling of not being heard..
Thank you so much for reading and reviewing... Did you read Innocence? If not this is another one that is dark...
Lisa

[1809 Black Plague December]

Think I might of Lisa, will check, :)

[John the Baptist]

I don't think I would be venturing too far out on a limb by suggesting this one is not your basic upper. From the grim black and white urban photo to the last word of the last verse, it radiates a sense of hopelessness. For some reason, maybe it's the reference to severed fingers or the apparent accident scene of verse 2, there is no relief. Were you indeed in such desperate straits in '68, or is this just the reflection of teenage angst?

[Lisasview]

As I was only 20 I was feeling disappointed in the lack of true connection. This is a young persons angst for sure... But as I wrote this 55 years ago I do not really know exactly how I was feeling. I know I wrote this in my little black book and rediscovered it recently. I kept it just as it was hand written...
No not an accident...yes, hopelessness that things might change...but... of course they did... I grew up...
Lisa

[John the Baptist]

I looked at the enlargement of the picture of you that accompanied the poem. Weren't you a hot thing?

[Lisasview]

Well, that was a photo taken for modeling...Actually,
I think I was 16 at that time...but I wrote the poem when I was 20...
Thank you for saying such nice things,
Lisa