Bitter blank and emptied
of everything that is nothing
you are the most and the least.
The all and the none.
No longer wishing to live
like an almost ancient mosaic:
coloured but broken.
-
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Agitation of hands. Strength of words. 
beenjamoon! sorries about last night i really wished to have had a chatting with you but i couldnt reach an internetty source.
I adore this certain poem of yours. It reminds me of my grandfather who used to be quite the speaker. A retired pastor. He sits there in his tattered armchair with his loafer-clad feets, next to me. With Beethoven’s 6th 2nd mvt record playing in the background he attempts to describe his emotions when listening to this music. Like we used to before his stroke. Like we used to for hours and hours and my granny would come in and feel frustrated that she couldn’t keep up with us. However, now he can’t finish his sentences. The words just don’t come. He sits there with his arms folded and laughs at himself.
I like the comparison of the nothings. When do you hear back about the contest?
In about a week I think but you never really know
They take as long as they like.
You know how it is.
Ha Ha I’ve tagged you.
http://nextgr8twriter.wordpress.com/2007/04/17/poetry-tag/
I have a love-hate relationship with the mosaic image that you used. No, I love it, it’s just that I love mosaics and haven’t been challenged to look at them that way.
Good work.
I see wha you mean.
I meant an old mosaic that’d be found in a ruined roman villa or something of that nature, so that it’d be broken.
No need to report me to the SPCM
(Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Mosaics)
“I’ll be good I swears it”
:]
For Zaph,
Sometimes we wish a love has never been
A confessed but long buried sin.
How can we cherish something that gave us nothing
But a receding memory that sharpens its blade
with every remembering.
Exquisite,
Tom
It truly is Tom. Beautiful.
Thank you very much.
Thanks, always good posts on your blog!
Thank you.
Nice poem.
Thanks.