Credulous

For Devon's image contest for picture this..

Our little soiree
anchored by fables..
My gentle proud voice
suspended over us as organza..
As we took shelter
in our cornucopia of mutual faith..
My belly knotted in bubbles of joy
to find that look in their eyes
credulous and diligent..
I had long forgotten simple joy
of being heard and being trusted in..

Last week as i tied last knot of his tie
Arnold just nodded his head
looking out of the window
my words fell on his non emotive face
as spoon clinks on an empty plate...
I wondered where was he
perhaps cringing into an alternative world
trying to find a linear path
lost in corrugations of cortex..
Maybe physical reality seemed
just a blur to him as it does to me these days..


Twenty years hence
all three would be semblance
of three sparrows lost in a bush
each turning their heads in their pithy periphery
looking in all directions yet not at each other..

Tied in slipknot of tender psyches
they would be like hands of  a clock
set in different directions
pulled back my focal point of nostalgia..

Perhaps then i can give them back
the same solace.. trust in their eyes gives me now..
When non hedged attention is a kitschy fare
i will be right here for them..
Perhaps my years of getting lost..unearthing myself back
would help them find their own path.

Before  age wears down sun dappled innocence...

Before they stop to look up from their blackberry..i phones..

I capture iridescence of their blue cornflower like eyes
blow it and watch it suffuse over us in suspended cirrus..
As i embrace this very moment to tuck it in pocket of my heart

...for trust rarely comes without a price these days....

Reviews

[Devons]

A great wistful, nostalgic weight hangs on the words of this poem. The feeling it provokes is somehow forlorn in spirit, pressing down upon the reader with sincerity; rather like a tired soul sighing gently on the shoulder of sympathy (difficult to describe without further poetic imagery). The emblematic core of lost innocence and the moments that go with it has very strong vibrations and effects the mood lugubriously, but in the end the overall feeling is one of reason and realness: though this may be the practically indescribable, obscure and abstract longing of the human soul. Hard to put into words.

[Fabian G. Franklin]

Bravo...I REALLY enjoyed this! Too many wonderful phrases to pick a favorite! (my words fell on his non emotive face
as spoon clinks on an empty plate...) SWEET!
(each turning their heads in their pithy periphery
looking in all directions yet not at each other..) Excellent!

Highest marks from me...a pleasure to read something that has some originality and thought put into it!

[JC]

youre as strong as ever...your a boxer of words..you got the stamina and 1-2 punch swaha,..love it.

[Ladysue]

I like how you did this...I agree clever use of time...there is so much expressed thought out this piece. Very moving...good writing...

[just rose.]

I read this last night and again this morning, and my favorite lines are still these:

"they would be like hands of a clock
set in different directions"

very well done.

[paul]

i love your lines like - 'i had long forgotten simple joy' - so straight forward ( easy to understand) and so powerful as this is a real affliction for many of us. how sad to
'forget simple joy'
excellent the way you added the name 'arnold' as opposed to something like 'he'
also, it's almost like prose at times, then veers back into poetry

[An owl on the moon]

This felt like a novel... a massive story condensed.. the imagery of innocence frozen in time.. and yet how time moves us into the future... and those moments are no more.. growing up.. moving on... You've created such a brilliant glimpse into the now and the not yet.

[Alicante lullaby]

i dont know why but these kids kinda looked ugly,sorta wrinkled to me but you see deep...you have eyes to look into beauty of things...i loved the theme and yes,your words are organza,dear...

[Robin]

your writing is felt , it dips into the mindscape where our commonality is joined image by image , where memories overlay in the dimension of dream inspired by reality ..

[Ed Hart]

i love to read how other poets of accomplishment see deeply into your poem...i am simply a child lost in the maze your words