Quicksilver
Yellow streetlights bleak
wearing necklaces of rain-
pearls against the streak
of finger painted windows
overlaid
with quicksilver brocade
and nests of spider eggs.
Where once this place
was abandoned, in a room
the creak of floor boards
drowned by thunder's boom,
revealed
by shadow and lightning strobe,
paint-by-number puddles trace
around two who sleep sound
in the aftermath
of their heated tryst
that causes the panes
to mist
and condensate.
Moisture trickles down
brittle wallpaper paste
and folds of stained flesh
amidst mottled reflections
as the sound of rumbling
deep
in the sagging rafters
stumbles, tumbling-
endlessly passes the hours.
Pelting on a roof of tin,
turning storm into showers.
Descending by the score within,
moths alight
and silently creep over
the still-life bodies in their keep.














Devious Comments
Comments
--
Human folly does not impede the turning of the stars.
Tom Robbins
--
| So Wait Up, I'm Not Sleeping Alone Again Tonight... |
...There's so much to dream about, there must be more to my life.
| I Am The Scarlett Wolf Hear Me Growl *Rawr* ^^ |
Looking deeper into the poem, there are a number of symbols that also illustrate this comparison...I will not list them in a certain order.
The moths, which are displayed in the last stanza, symbolically represent the fragility of human life. being light and airy, moths seek out light, just as human beings seek things beyond the spectrum of mortality. in this case, the love shared between these two was so alluring (like the candle to a moth) that they retained the strength to return to the living world (as ghosts). Also, the moth in shamanic folklore is used by the spirits to warn souls of impending death, and even more importantly, to serve as messengers to the "non-living world" Excellent choice in using them.
Aside from the moths, the "folds of flesh" in the fourth stanza allude to memory retention. The lover's, remembering their deep love, are able to pick up where they left off on earth. The folded skin reminded me of the human brain...also wrinkled to retain information.
This poem was beautiful Jade. Deeply symbolic and flowing. There is much to analyze here. Excellent work!
is
just
so
sweet
of
you
to
say!
--
Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans.
--
Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans.
--
"The world we perceive through our senses could be an elaborate hoax. "
René Descartes
I read this aloud - and I love the cadence of the words as they echoed in the empty room in which I sit. This piece falls like rain as it is read, increasing then lightening with the rhythm of torrents and then showers - much as I imagine the love making to have been before they drifted to sleep in the warm room with the cool window panes.
The wall paper and mottled reflections lend to the idea of other lovers or perhaps just livers of life that were in the room before these two occupied it. And how the rain was heard on the tin roof in the past as well as now.
The moths remind me of old age and death. Also, wet clothes that perhaps are discarded in a corner from a mad dash to shelter from the rain.
Lovely poem.
--
364
--
Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans.
--
"The world we perceive through our senses could be an elaborate hoax. "
René Descartes
reading it aloud does lend it a whole other feel rather than reading it silently to one's self. i find that i actually enjoy it more when i read it aloud.
as with so many of my works, this one has many layers, and many ways to look at the same thing.
even more lovely is how you are another who understands the significance of the moths.
i thank you so much for giving me your thoughts in this way, dear one.
--
Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans.
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