My first inspiration offering to you is simple: we all move through varying degrees of darkness and light. At times the light is brilliant, warm, blinding. At times it is only a distant pinpoint in a sky of darkness....and sometimes - it is muted. We are in a fog. Describe your "fog" to me? Is it lifting? Is it descending? Does it bring you comfort? Does it bring a chill? Tell me about it.
If you're not inclined to consider the metaphor, just write about one of the pictures...as long as you write...
PEACE
Welcome to the songspace.
I'll make it more comfortable here this weekend. In the meantime....write anything.
ReplyDeleteShades of incandescence hovered
ReplyDeleteFraudulently near
Cold luminescence called me out of a
Dream I thought I was in, only I…
…I couldn’t wake.
Felt for daylight under cover of
Shadows boxing me in and I…
…felt the breath of Heaven stoop for a kiss.
Yesterday the light shifted.
Swirling leaves left a mingled path and
Everywhere I turned the light grew, but
My steps faltered til there was no way clear…
…and then you were there!
Indisputably you.
That gentle voice scooped my soul back into
Your arms and I was 9 again…
…baptized off a swishing shore.
Felt alive and you were the light and the
Passageway was suddenly brilliant;
Devoid of clutter, devoid of dead,
Out of the darkness and into the life
Of a crisp new Spring and I…
...I sing a new song in this Light
In this Light, glorious.
-M’Lyssa Fairchild © 11/19/09
Beautiful way to start things off M'Lyssa :)
ReplyDeleteThanks, Tam, for setting my pen to flight again.
ReplyDeleteThanks, MzLaydee for being simply, beautiful You!
mlyssa, this is beautifully penned. thank you for posting it. peace. Welcome to the room.
ReplyDeleteMzlaydeegirl. So happy to see you. Welcome!
it comes in fragmented and dissected, the light does.
ReplyDeleteforging ahead, but in stunted steps
groping and straining to see
your voice muted, barely audible
when the fog lifts
the path is so far away
wandered too far away
still nothing is clear and
the fog is no longer dense
a once symbiotic connection once shared
is tense
full of sorrows gathered
and slept in as a nest
the leaves and twigs of which
are still nestled haphazardly
in my hair
fumbing along this path
groping along in pain
haven't stopped to heal the pain
just know this road must be travelled
if i ever want to be safe in your arms again
in the sunlight.
(c) 11.20.09 - Xada
Mlyssa...this so closely reflects where my head is right now. tfs.
ReplyDeleteWhoa! We're on the same path to be sure!
ReplyDeleteIt's been a long time since I've read you, M'Lyssa. This was a verynice way to familiarize myself again. I enjoyed the way your pen flowed. I could see every image painted...
ReplyDeleteVery nice, Xada! I enjoyed the imagery presented by your piece too. It's good to read you, always...
ReplyDeleteBeen a minute for me. My muse comes in spurts these days... Must be my own fog.
ReplyDeleteI hope you dont mind, Tam, but the fog I see around someone else came to mind when I was pondering what to write. And it's an epic, as usual... lol
Cocoa-skinned Prince
So happy, so sad…
Lift your eyes and smile
at all around you
Why cast your soft browns
to stones underfoot;
Has the night swallowed you whole?
There is so much to be missed
looking down… lost in the fog
She watches you often
as you move around her world
Day after lonesome day,
she waits…asking
"Father, what am I
supposed to see?"
Countenance ever masked,
you’ll never know what
lies behind those eyes
Can’t you see?
They shine like
dancing points of light
whenever you’re near
Thoughts of your laughter in the ether
mingled with angel wings and butterflies;
Cocoa-skinned Prince
Full of laughter and energy…
Life’s heaviness weighs in like
chains upon your soul
Let nothing of the world trouble you
She wants to toss it all away
like crumpled paper on the floor
She wants to lift the fog
and see you smile again
You seem so far away;
a mental image grainy like
Granma’s old TV set
She waits to call your back from
your lonely path to never-no-where
Cocoa-skinned Prince,
I see you consumed
by the mist;
graying in the dust
of yesterday
Both of us two ships adrift,
yet longing for the shore...
I know the night is
a welcome thing
It’s shadows have been
home for me too
But soon the darkness grows cold
and with it, the mind too
Cells become permeated by staleness;
light and creativity grow dim
as you wonder
"Where is my daybreak?"
Wander in the wilderness no more
Lift soft browns to see the light
There is so much to be seen;
and your daybreak is
here with me
a shade of dark,
ReplyDeletewild dark,
residing in borrowed dreams
powder burning mime , mimicking, my life
amongst the muddy assumptions
There is nothing that can compare to destiny
I am the mistress of tomorrow
my heart a bloody pomegranate
each section…brimstoned, and poppied
and I cast these images ..in drumline drills
I darken stone as I cross over
and ivy stone walls with my creeping
lesser peripherals of my steps,
nights….and follows like
streaks of ash and soot…
where I am no longer where I used to be
I will be here, in my blackened dress
stagnant black water bodice
heaving, vague , and deceptive
as the body coaxes me through door ways…
the blind…leading the blind
existing solely on paper, and Grimm tales
of sleeping, and mistakes of the flesh
quicksilver images, recalled in hindsight
conjuring, emotions….reliving each step
the cool of shaded venue…a crevice
where the soul falls twain,
death stay your phantoms..
in the shadows…devoid of true reflection
The gray area….an accomplice of light
where one cannot exists…..without the other
coincidental partners…one betraying
the other on a well worn path,
rainblack ribbons….
behind me….beside me
like the distance of bodies.. rippling in the wind
Sassysaidit2009 (c) All rights reserved
xada, i am not sure why but what really struck me was this part tense
ReplyDeletefull of sorrows gathered
and slept in as a nest
the leaves and twigs of which
are still nestled haphazardly
in my hair
that is such a powerful metaphor...wow.
where is my daybreak? Poettess- this is poignant and beautiful. thank you - (epics are always welcome)
ReplyDeleteSharon, this poem is ancient...haunted...surreal. I found myself seeing it like a movie as I read it....
ReplyDeleteHello Vee!
ReplyDeletemarvelous!...njoyed this scribe:)
ReplyDelete*dang biting fist*
ReplyDeletefeelin this road xada!
a beautiful encouraging piece,...mmm!..bravo!
ReplyDeletemmm for sum reason i feel like there is still an undefined area left..where u walk thru..uncertain of the meaning..great piece!
ReplyDelete*freeflow...yanno da deal*
ReplyDeletebulbs of mesmerizing hope
along the path of life
still leave me
dull
....exposed
to the grey of death & its welcoming hues
away from warm rays and comfortable space
trust - broken ... knowingly
yet bittersweet is the remedy
rewarding me - to see
beyond pleasurable offenders
and i do...now
leave my fingerprintz on your conscious
as i blow out
the misleading light
of disguised respect
I sense hurt and betrayal in this... Very nice flow, Ina...
ReplyDeleteU senses work dear..lol..thanx!
ReplyDeletewow, Ina....powerful write.
ReplyDeleteI''ll get something new up after i write something for SP...probably on wednesday or thursday....
ReplyDeleteBut soon the darkness grows cold
ReplyDeleteand with it, the mind too
Cells become permeated by staleness;
light and creativity grow dim
as you wonder
"Where is my daybreak?"
i've been back many times to read this piece, and the same lines stick out. it's so true, darkness makes us cold in so many ways. one cannot see the see the pinnacle of light if the darkness is enshrouded tightly about them.
will be here, in my blackened dress
ReplyDeletestagnant black water bodice
heaving, vague , and deceptive
sharon...this says so many things...breathless
this entire piece is somewhere i was earlier this year.
ReplyDeleteSharon, as always, your gift of metaphor leaves me envious...
ReplyDeleteThank you Tam.
ReplyDelete