Porcelain dusted with grime,
unwashed, unbathed.
Lying in sinks,
forgotten,
cleaned to mirror's shine
when guests' arrive,
flaunt,
then left back to where it started.
Birth of new,
dawn so clean.
The noon sun high,
but the brightest, too, dies.
Lower and lower,
dusk,
moonlight,
keeps burning
on and on,
till it gives in
on the moonless night.
Whispers of help
disappearing in whispers of wind,
carried to far, far lands,
heard, yet unheard,
whispers slowly fading.
The wind carrying specks
leaving them on dead portraits,
leaving them on living portraits,
mounting on those white globs of paint
which the artist stroked with love
to show the sparkle in eyes,
to show the zest of life.
Dross decorating the livings' frames,
till they are filthier than the dead,
for at least the dead
lie in peace
down, deep down,
touched no more than by the earth.
But these at unrest,
moving,
deteriorating,
corrupting the calm world around,
till they too join the dead,
calm.
Points:
Time spent:
Canary word: Present
Possible AI signals:
Original Text:
Are you sure you want to delete this comment? This cannot be undone.
Mark this comment as a review? Points will be awarded to the poster.
Your comment was posted, but it wasn’t long enough to count as a review. Reviews need about four complete sentences (at least 250 characters). Try writing another review that explains your thoughts in more detail — the author will appreciate it, and you’ll earn points for it.
125,016 Literary Works • 672,851 Reviews
Ok this piece was amazing, and it is with great regret that I inform you that I only have two pieces of constructive criticism.
The first piece isreferring to the whispers of help disappearing in the whispers of wind. I feel that practically the wind should a bit louder than a whisper to snatch away and drown out the whisper so. Personally in you situation I would describe the wind as wisping, which I think is more powerful than a wisper , but still sounds similar and bears the same sort of rhythmic pattern.
Secondly, a trivial matter no doubt, I think "for at least the dead" and "lie in piece" should all be on the one line. I don't know if that ruins any obscure yet non the less grandiose plans for world take over, but remember it is merely my suggestion.
At this I bid you farewell, I hope my review helped you as much as it helps the green team.
Yours in reviewing,
Take That You Fiend!
I can't find a better word to describe this poem with, other than FAN-FREAKING-TASTIC.
It kind of makes you think about things. It personally made me think about how the things spoken of feel.
This piece seems as if a professional created it, molded it, then let it sit. Then wrote about how it felt to leave it's masterpiece to be covered in dust and neglected. Not from the point of view of the owner, but the designer. That in itself is beautiful.
Good luck to you!
Thank you so much! Your review made my day