Come Down

mulac

the wind blows through your hair
which was once soft to the touch
a rough sandstorm piercing the air

your eyes betray no expression
but the stagnant glaze only i know
has the power of a great wall

beauty has faded to black
where every second discovers a new pain
and a finality that summons loss

we knew a plane above speech
but our mouths were sewn shut
and our words were full of emptiness

there is a place where no one can go alone
and few leave together
unless released

FancyFacade

i like the line "and our words ..emptiness" awesome

Jaidra

I really like this Mulac. I always seem to enjoy poems that leave me wanting to know more.

Love the ending:
"there is a place where no one can go alone
and few leave together
unless released"

FinsburyParkCarrots

Originally posted by mulac
the wind blows through your hair
which was once soft to the touch
a rough sandstorm piercing the air

your eyes betray no expression
but the stagnant glaze only i know
has the power of a great wall

beauty has faded to black
where every second discovers a new pain
and a finality that summons loss

we knew a plane above speech
but our mouths were sewn shut
and our words were full of emptiness

there is a place where no one can go alone
and few leave together
unless released

Clever unexpected tension in the contrast between the memory of the soft touch of a lover's hair (=comfort) and the sight of all those memories, dreams and associations thrown into disarray when a rough, abrasive sandstorm (a metaphor for the violent aridness of dead love?) scatters the beautiful tableau of past images held dear.

I appreciate the idea that estranged lovers' mouths are sewn shut, metaphorically, by the use of empty words...the only problem I have is in visualising it... in such a richly imagistic poem, is there another line or image that will say the same thing as "and our words are full of emptiness"? This is just a suggestion, mate...you can ignore it. No "critic" is God!

Cheers
Finsbury

Yellow

Originally posted by FinsburyParkCarrots
the violent aridness of dead love

hmmm...


it is violent
violence on morphine
everything loud
yet silent at the same time...

like a mouth with no toungue
open and wishing to speak
but not having anything to say

mulac

cheers