Four poems
Lonely Lady Listens
In a frozen room of locked-in time,
A careful mind of long years toil
Sits in an armchair, walls starkly bare.
Furniture and fittings speak the only lines
She has waited her life to hear.
Whispering phantoms crawl through hollow walls
Telling tales to her listening ears.
In the street below
A child screams a playful taunt to his mate -
To her ears it becomes a hidden bait.
Sparrows herald in the summer dusk -
To her ears it is the voice of forbidden lust.
Television unfolds its fact and fiction to the global hordes -
To her ears they are all
Her memories stored beneath the boards.
Hitch-hiker and I
Car stops
Heart leaps
With joy.
A ride
A lift
Has been given.
Who is he?
Who am I?
Questions asked.
No answers given
But time
Is passed.
Pass the joint
Have a beer
Give some cheer.
The travelers’ journey
On and on.
Forms
Cube, square
Rectangular.
No. That is not
What we are.
Sphere, circle
Round.
No. That is not
Where we're bound.
Tangents, touching
Lines.
That is
What we find.
All forms
Amorphous
Ever changing for the worst.
Bette then?
Or we
Are cursed.
Goodbye
You left too little
You left too much
Things around
Things to touch
I gave too little
I gave too much
Love hovered
You never touched
Ron Smerczak
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|
Name |
Comment |
Date |
|
Louis |
I look for several meanings, a
hidden message perhaps, and pattern. I'm not a boffin on metre and form. Points 3 - Very promising piece of writing |
2008-01-20 |
|
Mandy |
Ron, so good to see you at poetry.
I loved your poems. i like
your use of metaphor. Points 4 - Pretty close to perfect. I was captivated |
2008-01-26 |
|
James |
Loved the Hitch-hiker and thought
the Goodbye poignant. Points 3 - Very promising piece of writing |
2008-01-28 |
|
James |
Congrats. Drop me an e-mail when
have a moment. |
2008-02-15 |