Inner Importance

Make of it what you will!

Inner Importance

Oil stains on canvas,

 a painter's palette

of dried acrylic,

colours faded.

 

A feckless butterfly's

dreams held in aspic,

beneath scorching

lemon suns.

 

The taste of gin's

aromatic burn

flowing through arteries

that beg for forgiveness.

 

Rusted farm machines,

left for dead

in muddy byways

of empty thought.

 

Skeletal priests

praying to false gods

for the forgiveness

of their parishioners.

 

A lost child,

salty tears staining cheeks,

searching endlessly

for meaning.

 

18/02/17

Reviews

[Lena]

Thus far a disappointing search for the meaning of all the pieces of life's experiences. Where does the answer lies? This is the response your writing evoked from me. It is a very transportive piece.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Indeed for many Lena, but sometimes it is the journey we need to value. After all many writers, mathematicians, scientists and philosophers are inspired by such search. Many thanks.

[V]

Like a photo collage evoking inspirational thoughts. Constant associations adorned with poetry. I love the image you chose for your piece, might have provoked my will to read.. Your words reflect to me a still colorful yet fading mirror of the self studded with all the things we fill ourselves with and how we filter/perceive them. Strongly and well written piece, the butterfly stanza and machines stanza shine in their own poetic beauty and stand out from your other ones. I enjoyed reading.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Many thanks. A search for meaning and expression is what haunts many writers. So glad you enjoyed it.

[V]

Definitely. I did, you're welcome.

[DIVYA]

The examples given by you in the poem are so realistic and vividly bring to fore the jarring notes in life's music. Dreams waylaid by life, pain begging relief, abandonment, hypocrisy and disillusionment...

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Yes indeed all those emotions as questions arise about the meaning of life itself. Thank you Divya.

[DIVYA]

You are welcome John.

[Kelly Scheppers]

I couldn't help but think how each stanza stood on its own merit. Each one more riveting than the last - however possible that could be.

You are such a force behind the pen, John!

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Thank you Kelly. You are so very kind. Each stanza a search for meaning in life which we writers often aspire to without gaining answers.

[wordman]

reminded me of the dust bowl days when farm machines was left to rust ,as a painter brings the era alive with a portrait of the times

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Thanks for reading Ron. I did have a vison of walking past abandoned machines that once ploughed the earth to produce our food when I wrote that stanza.

[Lydia Shutter]

Words....once they are on the page, the meaning the poet intended is not necessarily the meaning the reader will see. So many thoughts here....every stanza could stand alone. Very emotional. Lydi**

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Thank you Lydi and indeed the search for meaning is often the writer's goal.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

we are poets...and many read our poems trying to find the meanings of them, while often not realizing that we aren't so sure....we are writing toward meaning trying to understand ourselves.
this one got me going...reminds me of william carlos williams...

j.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Indeed the search for meaning Jacob; you nailed it good and proper!