Your Picture Spoke a Thousand Words to Me

One of September's last beauty that I composed

In a place that does not exist for me

In a place that holds no life for me

I found a lost treasure of my youth

Just to lay eyes upon.

There was no feeling of possession

No more rights to call it my own

I looked at it, for sweetest gifts

It had bitter fragments etched into it.

Those eyes they looked pale as Autumn air

Lost in needless rhymes

Metaphors of self-vitality

Those eyes,they spoke to me.

Eyes that echoed light and tears

O that is an art no one can portray

That is the science with her dual nature

Of Human form,

We are after all, the descendants of materialistic waves.

It was a place that once was the home of my beloved

Dejected, deserted, it holds no value

Plateaus of Spring and summer

I only knew two seasons then.

Of Happiness and prosperity

Of love and surrender

I only knew the music of souls

and melodies of peculiar hearts

And then that familiar Smile

I looked at it, I hoped for something 

more than just memory

I hoped for rain over deserted isles.

It was the unraveling of my quantum physics

It was the biological vitality that I looked upon

Its how dearly I have held memories,

close to the heart

My lips stumbled, my heart stuttered 

The thirst of calling all the lost angles

the unbounded desire of

holding that which belonged to me.

It was a dream wrapped in physical memory

Of living and giving

Of praying and portraying

The only beauty I ever saw

was in my eyes, in my heart, in myself.

Reviews

[Annie S]

Amazingly written. The way i read was quite slow because that's how i see it in my imagination
Nice poem though keep writing :)

[Virtuosa X]

This felt really true to me. Somehow, it reminded me of myself.

Great job. Write on!!

[Prritiy]

nice composition, though long it didn't seem tedious.

best wishes

[moog-drika]

very well penned...keep it up! ^_^

[Azure Montessa (Blue)]

You used effective word choice and I love how you gave me a vivid picture of what you're saying. The last 2 lines have a great impact. Very well-done! :)

[Mike Emil]

what doesn't exist isn't there
until I write about it
then it's real
not before
HAI!!!

[Dayran]

Bal ... poetry is about sharing in the universal experience of the individual ... with the common experiences of everyone else. To exalt the personal and private nature of your own experiences alone makes the reader a spectator ... to your will of gratification. You may want to take a look at that ... if you continue to expect reviews.

[gombeggar]

some very good lines here, but it also seems yer trying to talk over your audience once again