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Literature Text
I am
Isolated
here
beyond the notes I recognize,
the places I could sing,
the people I could read
and who read me.
It is not now a matter of learning, a matter of tuning, a matter of
one
broken
string.
It is a matter of distance between the strings,
a space I can not fill with my own music.
They are lost to me
I am lonely on a chord
And I run to the end
and drop.
Isolated
here
beyond the notes I recognize,
the places I could sing,
the people I could read
and who read me.
It is not now a matter of learning, a matter of tuning, a matter of
one
broken
string.
It is a matter of distance between the strings,
a space I can not fill with my own music.
They are lost to me
I am lonely on a chord
And I run to the end
and drop.
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Ah. Well. I am walking a very thin line here, stepping into overly personal and haphazard open form poetry--the deadly perils of free verse, where it becomes diary sop rather than poetry. But sometimes you do, you know?
© 2007 - 2024 Marbletoast
Comments7
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Very abstract and emotional - conveying feelings of loneliness and longing for what cannot be with you. Well done! 