and all the lights ...

. . . all of them

as one

at once together

      fell

      from the night

                                 sky

cascading

tumbling one upon the other

out of order, out of context, out of patience

           out of spite

all at once

           aching, standing without redoubt

            before the riotous display of

dispassionate exodus;

a chaotic disregard for the sterility left behind

in a trembling

                          knowing . . .

 

           And so it is, as I tiptoe once-enchanting night skies,

I know my heart has never truly broken before in all the thousands of disappointments of time.

 

Until.  finally.

there is not one remnant left of you

             or me.

Reviews

[Ed Hart]

here's an example of how poetry tells an unwanted tale, and in its construction displays the description...i experience your cascading heart in word and form...this is the opposite of the Forth of July, this is a Titanic foundering of the soul...if romance doesn't finally die, how will you be born again...it's a different dimension

[Neville]

A truly delightful collection of words that fit together seamlessly & a delight too, to consider them here in their entirety. Made me feel quite sad though but hey ho, I can read another.....N

[J]

thank you for your generous thoughts, N. Unfortunately, you'll find most of my work is on the side of melancholy. have always believed that affairs of the heart mostly leave us with fodder for great poetry. haha!

[Neville]

For what it is worth, I agree with you entirely, except for the bit about my generosity....N

[emmajoy]

There are poets one misses when they drift away... too many.. the void grows..

Hope life is being as kind as it can be, Jilly Joyful.

[emmajoy]

Tis a tumbling and mumbling of desperate memories, a powerful tragedy written in such an emotional style that makes the reviewer want to hug and say.. 'there, there. ' '.. tumbling one upon the other ~ out of order; out of context, out of patience out of spite ~ all at once and ~ aching, standing without redoubt ~ before ~ the riotous display of dispassionate exodus; '

This is literary expertise: a how to share thoughts and emotions near inexplicable.

[Gandré]

Hi Jill, life is a drama, even I know.
The story of stories and always longing, to feel safe within oneself. There is not remnant of grief or sadness, when we dont look back?
I loved this poem.

[Sethnicity]

BEAUTIFULLY WRITTEN.. like a forgotten memory of past grandeur.