Uncapping the street to discover yesterday again,
retrieve it from its stubborn green patina
of time-worn spore-seed
gathered in this pool-dark pollen breath and
then it's arches, shadows and bridges over
the silent canals and vendors' stalls whose promises
seem indecipherable as palm lines or paper creases.
Here we are, could be, once more
sipping day's steam and hot chocolate against the grey-slung skies
emulating picture book scenes both true and not,
because everywhere is never everything
though it was sold and promised as experience,
something to hold onto, revived from the past
a tiny galaxy that perpetuates our model of never-yesterday,
yet seems to brush away exactly
what you expected
before arriving.
The nothing after leaving, with its swarming infinities,
is still more: rotating in air-born moments like moths
in the plane-dark and plain dark cabin
over those pulsing amber lights
of some medieval fairy kingdom,
palisades and ponds
just and only out of mind,
from this distance they sing cool dreams
like heart beats.
But night, O night, with your nostalgic ebb and laugh,
even you must relent, your library hours cease
for now:
I splash my footsteps against your solid waters,
finding once more tomorrow rising.
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141,922 Literary Works • 676,093 Reviews
Hello there, EverlastingFlame is here for a review!
I'm in awe. I love this poem in every way possible. Wow, you're truly gifted when it comes to writing. There were so many metaphors and imageries in here that made it come alive. My favorite stanza of yours has to be the second one. Sorry there isn't much constructive criticism I can give, I just can't see the flaws in this. However, I think that in here,
"it's" should be written as "its". But that's literally it. Good luck with your future projects, I can't wait to read them.
Thank you for the most kind and generous review, for taking the time to share!
(In case you're curious, the "it's" is meant to be that way - the sense is that 'it is' all of those things, at once and not at all.)
No problem! And okay, I wasn't too sure so thanks for the clarification
Uncapping the street to discover yesterday again,
retrieve it from its stubborn green patina
of time-worn spore-seed
gathered in this pool-dark pollen breath and
then it's arches, shadows and bridges over
the silent canals and vendors' stalls whose promises
seem indecipherable as palm lines or paper creases.
Here we are, could be, once more
sipping day's steam and hot chocolate against the grey-slung skies
emulating picture book scenes both true and not,
because everywhere is never everything
though it was sold and promised as experience,
something to hold onto, revived from the past
a tiny galaxy that perpetuates our model of never-yesterday,
yet seems to brush away exactly what you expected
before arriving.
The nothing after leaving, with its swarming infinities,
is still more: rotating in air-born moments like moths
in the plane-dark and plain dark cabin
over those pulsing amber lights
of some medieval fairy kingdom,
palisades and ponds just and only out of mind,
from this distance they sing cool dreams
like heart beats.
But night, O night, with your nostalgic ebb and laugh,
even you must relent, your library hours cease
for now:
I splash my footsteps against your solid waters,
finding once more tomorrow rising.
Your choice of words is very very good. Throughout the poem, the theme sounded very clear and lucid, so I loved to read it. Keep writing like this. I want to read more of your poems.
Good luck
Aritra
Thanks for the kind words and the review, Aritra