remnants of shattered dreams drifted round her like so many strands of broken pearls
pearls that no longer had a string
pearls that had long since lost their effervescence
lackluster balls no longer a part of anything whole
these streams of yesterday’s dreams drifted to the splintered floor of her life empty without him
daylight became just another torture to be endured
countless hours of pretend in that world of if only called reality
daylight became just another torture to be endured
countless hours of pretend in that world of if only called reality
and night
night alone in her dream world of him
night
the burning hellfire and brimstone scratched from the pulpit of her southern baptist childhood
night when all else was shut out by the darkness she had come to love
darkness hiding the sins of her heart
the lust of her soul
darkness where she became who she was
darkness where she became who she was
where she was no longer alone
but with her thoughts of him
of them
darkness where all sins committed were well worth the price of admission
yes
nights when memories held her close
caressed her heart
whispered softly into her ear
nights where dreams were the playground of their desire
their love acted out
love acted out under moons apart
love acted out under moons apart
and lives apart
her
in the dreamworld of broken pearls
him
him
in that other world
the world of realitywould you like to listen to the words?
8 comments:
The depth of sadness, passion & longing is quite evident in this poem. Lovely read. Great imagery.
thanks so much, andy! great to have you come by with such kind words - there is also some of my poems at my gypsywomanworld blog should you care to visit there sometime - again, thanks so much for coming by and have a great remainder of the evening!
And this one, I was able to hear! Oh, dear Jenean, you do sound like a southern belle. I am not stereotyping you (at least I hope I am not). Here, then, the pleasure of both reading the words and listening to you express your heartfelt emotion... with live voice. A delight!
Nevine
oh wow, this is a piece of pure beauty!
oh, dear nevine! no, no, not at all - i DO sound like a southern belle - i AM a southern belle - and i don't mind a bit - i am what i am - born and raised mostly here and no matter the amount of travel, that southern drawl seems to have stayed with me notwithstanding i am sometimes [like with these recordings] surprised, shocked even, to hear it so blatantly! :)
i had toyed with the idea of adding audio for some time and recently decided to just do it - alternating between letting the reader read it aloud or hearing me - but then decided that no one HAS to listen to the audio so i added it to see if it's a positive addition -
thanks for coming by - and always, for leaving a note - have a glorious day, lady!
hello shadow lady! don't you love this image? i came across it quite by accident and it seemed to be perfect with these words - wonderful to have you drop by - thank you! have a great day!
My God, Jenean, what a troubling poem. A poem where what is may not be, and what could be...
A very complex poem. One of your muses is a master of double entendre... or is this a cliché with an aura of déjà vu?
... and would you listen to this English language of mine? I will stop that before you give me the coup de grâce! :-)))
Can't help it...
Caution: A first image of a series called Impressions de Paris should appear on the morrow if all goes well. I'm gonna step on it... Cheers, gypsy woman!
oh, there you are, man from the cold!!! have had you on my mind lately - more than usual - wonderful to see you - and hear your always welcomed words -
of double entendre - hmmmmm.....i've always loved the double - and sometimes the triple - with a deluxe quad!!! ;)
can't wait to see all your goodies from paris!!!
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