Weeping watercolors, forgotten dreams

Weeping watercolors, forgotten dreams

A Poem by Jack...

 

 

Weeping watercolors, forgotten dreams

 

 

 

There, beneath the rubble,

the ash and the debris,

you’ll find a faint image

looking something like me

 

As I too stand, peering into the pile

wondering, trying to make

some sense of the torment,

though this pain is imaginary…

 

for I have strode this wasteland,

walked these barbed wire foot paths

many times in the past

and what once was pain,

is now what I am

 

and the silhouette of what is seen

in a visionary echo of long ago tears,

repeating through thorn crested decisions

and a true lack of self confidence,

 

dances on the acidic breezes

that engulf my heart

and paint my frown

in weeping watercolors of my forgotten dreams


© 2013 Jack...



Author's Note

Jack...
Thank you for reading

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Reviews

"for I have strode this wasteland,
walked these barbed wire foot paths
many times in the past
and what once was pain,
is now what I am"

- I am just so touched by the feelings conveyed here. When we are hurt consistently, we get so used to the pain and accept it as a part of life, knowing no better.

This poem is amazingly different and speaks so beautifully of pain...

Thank you for sharing Jack.

Posted 4 Years Ago


Jack...

4 Years Ago

Thank you so very much Divya. yes that is true, but we can also find happiness as a common too, espe.. read more
DIVYA

4 Years Ago

You are most welcome Jack :)
such a cool chill painted on the poetic bones only you know..great piece, very well rehearsed in this kind ego less measured verse...amazing job

Posted 4 Years Ago


Jack...

4 Years Ago

Thank you so very much. I am thrilled by your kind and flattering words this morning. Truly, thank y.. read more
Sigh Jack, you've painted in hues of deep blue longing here my friend. Gorgeous poem albeit so sad, it makes me want to weep myself.

Posted 4 Years Ago


Jack...

4 Years Ago

Kind words like this will always allow me to climb out of that rubble and stand tall. No tears my f.. read more
I relate with this so much, thank you for sharing it. There it goes to my shelve.

Posted 4 Years Ago


Jack...

4 Years Ago

Thank you so very much my sweet friend.
INTRODUCTION

"Weeping watercolors, forgotten dreams" is an extended metaphor of forgotten dreams. It is disheartening to think that we are finite beings. The i m a g i n a t i o n of a child remains stationary as we are on the brink of death.

QUOTE DISSECTION

"though this pain is imaginary…/for I have strode this wasteland,"

Phantom pain manifests itself into reality within human emotion. The "wasteland" is apart of the writer's memory; it is the site of unfinished projects.

CONCLUSION

Regret is counterproductive, my friend. The "wasteland" is a legacy of your c r e a t i o n s; it lingers in your poetics. A writer leaves their legacy behind with their documented thoughts. The written word serves as the vital relic of a civilization.

Do not despair...

r e p a i r.

Posted 4 Years Ago


Jack...

4 Years Ago

Thank you so very much for your emlightening comments on my poem today. I truly do appreciate you vi.. read more
Vria P Crow

4 Years Ago

You are welcome! It was a pleasant visit.
for I have strode this wasteland,
walked these barbed wire foot paths
many times in the past
and what once was pain,
is now what I am -- wow...this just about says it all, doesn't it?

I felt this one, my friend. A deep, sensitive, emotional journey is painted within these lines. Truly enjoyed the read, but more importantly, I thought about the piece and about myself in it.

Posted 4 Years Ago


Jack...

4 Years Ago

Thank you so much Sarah.
Vigor diminishes, colors fade, you languish...disappearing into the scenery. At times it seems that way as we get older. Are we less needed in society? Are we less wanted? Do our opinions count? Such a sad commentary on life. Tears of long ago do follow us through the years unfortunately, but they need not define us. Self esteem is all important....and when it disappears, nothing else really matters. Jack, I know what others say is less powerful than what you think, but let me assure you, you are not a fading flower here at the Writer's Cafe! The introspection in this is excellent and the imagery was ultra expressive. Great work, Jack. Lydi**

Posted 4 Years Ago


Jack...

4 Years Ago

Thank you Lydi. You words mean a lot to me.
Wow. Seriously, as we say in OK, "I ain't got any words!" That was wonderful

Posted 4 Years Ago


Emmy

4 Years Ago

Pretty good! We finally got some rain! I heard Texas beat OU in football. I'm not sure if its true b.. read more
Jack...

4 Years Ago

They did, I am not a big Longhorns fan, but thanks.
Emmy

4 Years Ago

Yeah anytime;)
"peering into the pile

wondering, trying to make

some sense of the torment,

though this pain is imaginary"

The dreams are empty , the wastelands are scattered , thoughts are dry , foot paths are crooked , watercolors are fading , even visions are echoing in the void. You have described splendidly a hopeless state Jack...Bravo


Posted 4 Years Ago


Jack...

4 Years Ago

Seems I'm getting good at that. :) Thanks so much my friend.
Sami Khalil

4 Years Ago

Most welcome....:)

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Added on October 14, 2013
Last Updated on October 14, 2013

Author

Jack...
Jack...

San Antonio, TX



About
Not much to tell about me, I am just Jack, I am a poet, a writer, a musician, a painter, a builder and a dreamer. I live in south Texas but am originally from New Jersey and miss it more and more all .. more..

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