The finches balance on the line
Trilling hopefully
Ushering in a new day
I am cold
An old bouquet
Rusty and worn
Lying prone under the table cloth
If we are still enough we can magic a picnic
She wipes the grime from her fingers
I am bored of this checkmate dead end board game
Alice daubs the orange on her lips
It is sugary and sweet
There are too many hours left to work through
I wish for dreams on sleepless nights
They never come
I tried painting white fences and hammering in nails
Nothing drowns out the emptiness of being
The scrawny leftovers of day dangle on my lips
Too tired to speak
Too heavy to move
Pulse drumming in head
Unwanted
Unloved
Waiting for ever after
Signs to interpret
Wishes to honour
Like tassels on an old dress
We are a single line of ancestral thought
The finches balance on the line
Trilling hopefully
Ushering in a new day
I am cold.
Trilling hopefully
ReplyDeleteUshering in a new day
It appears the birds know what to do while we humans get all rattled up!
Hank
That they do - thank you Hank
DeleteI love that you can see sunset from your window. I still can't, just glimmers on the other side of the trees. Your poem is brilliant and sad. "I wish for dreams on sleepless nights that never come." Sigh. Your line "I am a single line of ancestral thought" is one I would have loved to have written. You are wrong, though, about not being loved. We all love you. And we need you here. There is only one Jae Rose.
ReplyDeleteThank you Sherry - very much xo
DeleteThere are some very heavy feelings here Jae. Being unloved always hurts, so much so we are blind to others loving us. You have posted pictures of sunsets before which are sad in themselves how about sunrises which are full of hope? As Sherry implies we are each who we are, individuals that walk our own paths.
ReplyDeleteIt would be good to see a sunrise - thank you Old Egg
DeleteThe melancholic despair is so strong, as if the line is going to break any moment and the finches will fall one by one. Great writing. Though if this reflects your state of mind, I wish you love and wellness - from across the miles.
ReplyDeleteThank you for those wishes thotpurge..
Delete"I tried painting white fences and hammering in nails
ReplyDeleteNothing drowns out the emptiness of being "
truly this is despair in nadir
Thanks for dropping by my Sunday Standard today
much love...
Thank you Gillena
DeleteThe sadness and despair is so palpable here! Especially like; "There are too many hours left to work through, I wish for dreams on sleepless nights, they never come." Beautifully penned.
ReplyDeleteThanks so much Sanaa
DeleteWishing for dreams on sleepless nights is often one of my curses too. **sigh**
ReplyDeleteSigh indeed - thank you Magical
DeleteI say, "get a blanket, Jae Rose." You were able to use the words, that would not fit for me, square pegs into round holes. The image you selected is beautiful and a wonderful symbol for balance. Happy Mother's Day, to you! May it be a special day. A perfect day for a picnic, the sun is shining, and hopefully the little red finch will come again today, to sing, can you hear him?
ReplyDeleteHappy Mother's Day to you too Annell maybe if we wrap up in a blanket we will hear that little finch - thank you as always xo
DeleteThis is so harsh... but what a great lament. May many blankets or a summer sun come your way...
ReplyDeleteThank you very much Bjorn
DeleteThis line, "The scrawny leftovers of day dangle on my lips" is so incredibly rich with imagery...and the contrast evoked between these leftovers and the idea depicted by "we can magic a picnic" is so very stunning.
ReplyDeleteMuch appreciated - thank you C.C.
DeleteIt is so hard sitting alone on a teeter-totter wishing for balance. Do me a favor? Go back and read each one of these responses. Those are each individuals who hear your despair and offer you the bounty of their caring. That is the very fabric of reach dreams to fill sleepless nights. Accept it and mine as well.
DeleteElizabeth
Sorry, that's supposed to be rich, not reach. That's what happens when you type too fast to think.
DeleteElizabeth
Thank you so Elizabeth - maybe we have to reach deep inside to find rich dreams
DeleteNope, just close your eyes, breathe deeply, and think about the best time you have ever had. Then name those feelings and write them down. Let your inner voice talk to you and give you riches to dream about.
DeleteElizabeth
I like the phrase "we can magic a picnic", but there seemed no magic here ... only overwhelming sadness. Powerful read.
ReplyDeleteThank you indybev
DeleteHow the clocks slows when sleep is elusive, and sad thoughts enshroud us. I hope the finches hope warms you through.
ReplyDeleteAnna :o]
Thank you Anna - yes finches and a nice cup of tea help in the sleepless hours
DeleteThat was intriguing, however Alice and I, took some pretty wonderful trips... ending in some very bright sunrises:-)
ReplyDeleteZQ
Aha I knew Alice went off on other adventures - thanks ZQ
DeleteA haunting evocation ... spectacular writing!
ReplyDeleteThank you Wendy
DeleteLovely weave of beautiful, sad words. When we're unhappy time slows down. Is that in the theory of relativity? I bet Alice has a poetic answer to that. Take care Jae.
ReplyDeleteBig concepts are lost on both of us I think - thank you kindly Myrna and best wishes too
DeleteMuch Love, dear Rose! xox
ReplyDeleteThank you humbird xo
DeleteAnother incredibly brilliant, vivid poem, with wonderful imagery. 'We are a single line of ancestral thought' grabs me too, and then to have THAT be the line the finches balance on...
ReplyDelete(I grew up cold regardless of external temperature, wearing cardigans into high summer. I was loved, I now realise, but my mother didn't know how to show me that.)
May you be warmed!
Thank you for your blanket of words Rosemary - they are appreciated as always
Delete