The pieces
of what he’s given
ascend from his palm into icy air
up high they look like blotted words
then black specks in January’s sunset
they start to follow each other–
like looping crows
he tries to avoid what’s cast–
all his convictions, worn in the sky–
but they’re outside every window
everywhere he goes
and as he starts to hear the wings,
there’s no more forward motion
their pattern starts to lull him,
crooks his head toward the glass
his eyes orbitting the endless circle,
the flashing chain.
His heart is on the plate.
The ring descends to pick apart who he is.
With all honesty I didn’t understand the context but the description used was beautiful! I’m gonna follow 🙂
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Beautiful, beautiful metaphors and such an aching sense of loss – and consequences.
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his heart is on the plate…beautiful imagery in your poem – and as poets, our heart is on the plate as well..i can feel yours in these words
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sad and poignant…I use birds metaphorically quite often in my writings…great one shot!
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Indeed, sad & poignant, as she just stated. Quite an image at the end. Chilling. Excellent social commentary in poetic lines. Cheers
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I have met many people who have torn situations and friendships to pieces and then spend years trying to gather those scattered pieces and a lifetime trying to glue them back together.
Wonderful One Shot!
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On a narrative level, I’m not completely sure what is happening in the poem but I’m very intrigued by “he tries to avoid what’s cast–
all his convictions, worn in the sky–” I’ll have to muse on this a bit more 🙂
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The metaphors are really interesting. The same lines that intrigued Jessie were also intriguing to me, and that they were “outside every window.” The metaphor of the birds really helped me envision his predicament. Nice work!
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I have no idea what you’re writing about – don’t bother explaining, thank you, if you’re so inclined – but intriguing, rolls-easy-off-the-tongue word/flow choices.
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I had to read it a few times…what he was given, and paths he had chosen, in his life followed dad, he tried to get away but he couldn’t. In the end those pieces that circled him led to ending him. I wish he could have fought to free himself…or had known his heart was with us, if he had let it, and not left it on the plate. Change is scary, but I wish he would have found his strength to change…
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