There is no poetry without you

 

 

 

 

There is no poetry without you

 

 

Softly flows the sunset colors

painted on tired skies with fire

Igniting a wafting cloud in orchid tints,

the fresh scent of pine lingering within its escape

 

Drowsy horizons boast their claim

along seaside waverings in salted mist

Romance swims on shorelines engulfed

with all of the pageantry a white cap stanza can bring

 

And I whistle as I walk along,

taking in this wonder that has followed me home

Resting on a porch swing, feet off the ground

as morning glories sleep beyond white painted balustrades

 

Satin fingers intertwine with mine,

milk pudding lips bring their flavor to me

Luscious frosting in a whipped frenzy

coating my mouth in sugary mass

 

I point to the sky, the stars they beckon,

heart shaped constellations for two

Twinkling in your twilight eyes

as I reach for my pen and pad

 

Only to realize that this indeed is my imagination,

lounging on a worn out sofa, tattered cushions,

empty beer cans acting like so many ashtrays

leaving wet rings on a table, but who cares

 

There was a time when poetry flowed

from these nicotine stained fingers

in paisley emotions and violet scentings

climbing the arbor of love

 

But since you left,

leaving behind the shadows which claim my eyes

my ink is dry and my paper tossed, tiny balls in random patterns

on a floor that begs carpeting, but only bares soiled footprints

 

As I struggle to my feet, to the front window

desperately waiting for the grass to grow and butterflies…

I stab the wooden sill with my pen, I need it no more, for…

there is no poetry without you…and never will be again

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

Thank you for reading

Captcha - Bodiless

Reviews

[Bluefire]

What a sad ending...
This poem is magnificent, threaded with pure emotion and words uniquely sewn together.
I like that it's all a beautiful lie, a dreaming fantasy born from memory.
It makes it into a big shock when you find out it isn't true.
Well done! ^^

[Benita-Staebell M - Kin..]

so much Imagination I love it.


Lovely piece.

There was a time when poetry flowed

from these nicotine stained fingers

in paisley emotions and violet scentings

climbing the arbor of love

Did you mean scenting's or scentings?

thank you for sharing this lovely piece. blessings. kindred poet

[prachi prangya agasti]

As I struggle to my feet, to the front window
desperately waiting for the grass to grow and butterflies…
I stab the wooden sill with my pen, I need it no more, for…
there is no poetry without you…and never will be again...

its true.... and touching.... a sad one.... and i liked this theme very much...

[Linda alexander]

there is no poetry without you…and never will be again

Very touching and genuine writing, no adulteration or extravaganza of imagination, so focused, excellent writing

[Jack...]

Thank you so much Linda.

[Linda alexander]

You welcome, take care

[Sami Khalil]

"I stab the wooden sill with my pen, I need it no more, for…
there is no poetry without you…and never will be again"

Such love and dedications. Excellent...:)..................

[Jack...]

Thanks so much Sami

[Sami Khalil]

You are welcome muchly...:)...................

[Claire in VA]

I really love the beautiful imagery in the first five stanzas. I wasn't expecting the twist in the middle preparing readers for the sadness. I should have, though, because of the title. Tragic.
~Claire

[Jack...]

Thanks so very much my friend.

[Blue]

The vividness of the picture that you painted to us is commendable. I think every poet who has sought inspiration from another person can relate to the first few stanzas. I feel the raw emotion behind your words, Jack.

[Jack...]

Thank you so much my friend. Indeed, my inspiration comes from a very special place.

[Mollie Fitzner]

Ahhh, the scenarios often splotched all around our waking, walking, working world which are so instantly ready for the perfect mate who went away or never existed in the first place. And we don't for get the "thousand poems" (I selfishly refer to one of my writes on WCO ) so written for that one..with "...paisly emotions and violet scentings..." just bating the poet to open a new word document...and yet, there IA no poetry without that certain one...there is none...nothing left...dry...press the delete button and when it asks if you are sure, say yes.

[Jack...]

It sure does feel that way. Thanks so very much Mollie for you wonderful review of my work.

[s y e]

This is heartbreaking Jack... Sometimes change is a good thing and opens new doors for us. I loved it all, it was very sad my friend.

[Jack...]

Thank you so very much my friend. I appreciate your kindness.

[Rita L. Sev]

A heartbreaking piece - for a poet to lose his words, his soul... In my mind, I am hearing a melancholy version of "Ain't No Sunshine" - the essence of Life, gone...

[Jack...]

Yeah, it kind of feels that way. Thanks so very much Rita.