Gallery Quality Love

what is love

if not an unfinished line

a participle dangling her feet in the water  

a noun searching for his lost adjective

a tree without the tall?

 

it is a secret

half filled by illusory hope

left to idle between the white lines

of a street with too many dull lights

too many signs yelling stop

 

i can’t shake the feeling

that my shades are always half drawn

because too much sunlight

would ruin this romance

 

we are better like this

lost in the disorder of not knowing

because the alternative would jar us

into a sharp realization that life mimics art 

 

and maybe our art 

just isn’t gallery quality

Reviews

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

Oh there are so many lines, that are so brilliant in this one Sarah, great metaphorical insight, and creativity. This write tells me, it's about love, and love that is too late, or not worth it to hang as beautiful in this gallery, but maybe better, because, all that hangs there, isn't private... and sometimes, a silence between two, can make things much better... again a write that makes you think, and ponder, loved reading it.

- Elisa

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

Elisa, you are always such a kind and consistent reviewer. I appreciate you so much :)

You're ever so welcome, I appreciate you too my dear friend, keep on writing to us, and yourself, we need you here. :) xx it was a beautiful piece.

[kerikil]

This made me contemplate for quite a bit before I found myself truly 'connected' with the essence of the writing. Thank you for sharing this with us. This is beautiful.

[emmajoy]

What a person is, what he/she/You feel, isn't for others; the heart is only analysed when it lies on a slab. Else it's warmth that throbs its rightful task. Deep and true emotions are shared between people who love in the way you display here so beautifully, ' a noun searching for his lost adjective ~ a tree without the tall?' .. .. 'because too much sunlight ~ would ruin this romance ~~ we are better like this ~ lost in the disorder of not knowing'.

You truly are a poet.

[David Scott]

Hmmm?
My mind is chasing rabbits in several directions...
Yes, love is an unfinished symphony.
Yes, what passes for love is often not worthy of who we are.
Yes, who we are is often not worthy of love.
But... Since when is love valued by observers or made to display for the pleasure or judgement of others?

You got me thinking and emoting. Good work.

[Pax Analog]

I like the wry humor of this, the sense of romantic fragility not bearing too much scrutiny. Perhaps eventually the unblinking scrutiny of sunlight is Love Itself. ;-)

[Shane William]

Beautiful words. I did read this when you posted it and reading it again, realized I should've left you some nice words. Your art is too good for a gallery.

[Wuji]

But our love is of a secret quality, and that's all that matters. Truly exquisite.

Love is not for the viewers dear, but for the participants hehe.

[Einstein Noodle]

superb thinks i ... simply wonderful poetry ... reading it again ..thanks for sharing this
E.

[Frieda P]

I beg to differ my friend, yours always is, half drawn shades or no shades at all, you always bring us the light. Excellent.

[Souladareatease]

Stroking the heart with but a single brush...Beautiful sadness captured in this landscape Dear Friday-My Favourite tortured Artisan just don't cut any ears off and You'll move past Your Blue period!!!
Keep Painting My Friend!!!