in the dominion
of perfect stillness
complete silence
has to be
absent
longing requires
refrain
as lullaby
the whistle
of grass
in the wind
forlorn moan
as song
a distant
lament as signal
you are still
and well
quiet
of this kind's
highly malignant
why murder's
enjoined
by suicide.
.JPG)
10 comments:
I particularly like 'lament as signal/ you are still and well'. Makes me think of John Donne from long-ago. The red lady is very sunburnt! Actually a really neat painting, I liked it too.
Thanks for sharing, NoxAlio.
This really speaks to me. I just left a comment about how the sound of water lapping against a boat hull was mournful to me, like the whistle of a train, a howl, a hoot. And also wondering of silence or distance, how I wish it not murder...but sometimes it seems so. Songs...I was listening to...
♫Bluest bird
Talk to me
Don’t your wings get tired?
And when they do
How do you learn to
Just keep flying higher?
‘Cause I’m still laying low
Tell me when it dies down
Tell me when to come around
Tell me where to go
‘Cause I -
I’m still laying low.♫ (Trent Dabbs/Ashley Monroe)
~ Annie
PG you picked-up on the core of this one ... makes me smile ... and Donne? phew ... it terrifies me to be mentioned in the same breath ... (although i do have a somewhat ancient tone, but no ... he was/is a Great ... me, larva at best) ...
i too like this painting ... Dumas certainly pushes the envelope ... but something about this one is intriguing ... and as you say, Red as it can be ...
The note of sadness and the whispering of loneliness are portrayed to a nicety.
Annie ... thank you kindly for the pretty ♫s ... and lyric ... you made/make me smile ...
i've been twisted by distance all my life (truth be told for several generations really, if you can imagine that) ... and silence at the other end bothers me to no end, more than it should (makes me travel imaginary thoughts and roads) ... tyranny of geography maybe?
silence without stillness... seems like a certain kind of hell.
There's much to that. Silence is so LOUD Nox! Many conversations traveling, yes, though finding no voice. Our mind churns, not just with our own thoughts, but those we self impose when anothers words are not present.
it’s so hard
not to fill the emptiness
with my explanations
and your assumptions
fearing
all the arguing they will do
while neither of us
presides
over sides
I never trusted either of ‘em
truth be told
and now they’re all alone
behind the barricade
of our exile
and I fear even more
to open the door
I smile too...that little dandelion.
Shadow ... silence when you don't want it is Hell ... no?
thank you kindly Dibakar, it's certainly good to hear from you ... been a long time, no? ... i hope you've been well ...
something about this was unruly - i was compelled to change the beginning.
i'm still not satisfied with it (especially the fonts etcetera) but i suppose, it's going to have to stay this way.
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