Vanishing Point

Vanishing Point

So what do we think?
When we bother at all.
Of staying in straight lines?
Following the uniform in front?
Followed uniformly behind?
Up marble steps hollowed down by those before,
Past sleeping lions heroically carved to guard…
What? From whom?
Taken in perspective, all lines converge.
Until the mind - that willing fool -
Begins its urging. First quietly, in seditious whisper:
“Yes, this is real, real. Simply reach out and touch to feel.”
So convinced, we break away, slip beneath the velvet rope,
Past guards lost in stuporus dreams of cigarettes and coffee.
We know! Truly know what depth is there.
That hands may feel what eyes may see,
So we reach, reach,
Reach until suddenly,  surprised fingers are stopped.
Stopped short by the grain of brush strokes,
Stopped by the taunt bounce of canvas.
Then, oh then, there is the slow walk back
Back into place
Then there is the mourning,
Mourning that unnamed thing, lost.
Lost forever by the act of discovery.

 

Author's Note

All comments and criticism welcome

Reviews

[Laz K.]

I've read this a few tines trying to take it all in.

First, there's the realization of conformity that breeds discontent.
Then, comes the desire to explore.
The poem suggests that we re fooling ourselves.
Disappointment follows, and disillusionment.
Maybe, it all just seemed so enticing and wonderful in our head?

I appreciate poems that speak of some deep realization - and this one certainly does that.
The imagery used throughout is very vivid and masterful as well.

[Delmar Cooper]

Thanks for reading and for your comments. I had the notion it was a loss of innocence poem pretty much.

[Francis Orion]

Way to think for yourself! Well done.

[Vishuddha]

I don't do well with straight lines or even right angles. I am unreasonable. Go my own way. Discover the illusions of life and become disillusioned. All this I understand. Still, I am pleased by the paintings I have painted. Why should I live in the paintings others painted for themselves just because they all agree? This is, of course, just philosophy. The poem is thoughtful, deep and true. We are herd animals and to return to the flock is what we do. Hermits are few and far between.

[h d e rushin]

although poetry is not revolution it is presumable enough to stand as such. It is writing and typing but
also this intense listening and shaping exercise. I remember that line from the 60's Black liberation
movement, "don't say your a revolutionary if you stop at stoplights at 3 in the morning". Which,
when extrapolated can mean, 'whatever you do, if that adorned with stars, even that of a
starry jeweled night, make the noise different than the other persons noise.

I'm running on.........Sorry.
Great poem....dana

[Matching Socks]

Growth and evolution come from challenging the norm.
Very few are courageous enough to not let society stifle them.
We call them weird social outcasts until they become heroes, innovators.

[Beccy]

Every day, I watch my child look and learn and discover. Answer his questions as best I can, share the joy in his eyes. Somewhere along the way he may find that 'vanishing point,' but the wonder need not necessarily diminish; the universe is poetry in perpetual motion.



Beccy.

[Delmar Cooper]

Thanks, and congratulations on your motherhood. Lucky boy, I think.

[Einstein Noodle]

i agree with jacob e.. " wicked good stuff here" ... can't say it any better ... you paint such horrible tragedy ... i see a head barely peering above the spectrum only to vanish back to the ranks .. so very sad ... lots of levels in your poem ... and the point equally well taken ...
when i was in college (the first time) i took an art class for requirements ... i was painting a still life but drew it and began painting it all flowing together and floating in the middle of the canvas ... i was immersed in my creation and feeling really good about it when round come the "professor" ... who began by taking up my brush and demonstrating while giving me his opinion .. you need a table beneath it ... the objects are not real looking and need to this and that ...i sat in horror; speechless; how can one that is supposed to be encouraging take such liberties with MY expression ... i still have my floater in my chest of yesterdays ... tho the "masterpiece" is not so memorable .. i will never forget that professors audacity and self indulgence ... i think he gave me a C for the class ... as things turned out i needed neither him nor the grade ;)
E.

[Delmar Cooper]

Noodle, I don’t know how I managed to miss your comment, sorry. I liked your story about the invasive instructor. I heard a good one, probably apocryphal, but a good un’: A child in kindergarten or primary school was busy making her drawing when the teacher looked over her work.
“What are you drawing, Cindy?”
“A picture of God,” the child replied.
“But Cindy dear, nobody knows what God looks like.”
“They will soon if you’ll leave me alone.”

[Einstein Noodle]

:) .... very fine indeed ... lets leave the children to finish ... :)))

[Vishuddha]

They are closer to God than we.

[Einstein Noodle]

yes they are ... i guess the words of Jesus ring true .. to get to heaven we must be like little children ;)

[jacob erin-cilberto]

this is great....i preach to my students...don't just follow, think outside the box, come up with your own ideas...because this is the problem today...there is no real thinking going on...just following enough to get by...

wicked good stuff here, Delmar.

[Delmar Cooper]

Much obliged Jacob. You're kind to say such things, to me and to your students. I am glad there are teachers left, so many are being replaced by test monitors.

[Jacqueline Murray]

If I'm interpreting this poem correctly, I can relate to it on a very personal level. The loss of innocence that takes place during the process of discovery and learning about the world---the process of feeding one's curiosity, or even just the process of accidental discovery---is a thing to be mourned indeed. The last three lines were especially chilling.

[Delmar Cooper]

Thanks for reading. You summed up what I hoped to convey when I wrote it. To me this theme is as simple as it gets. Not so to everyone.

[Chris]

...innocence... sigh. That is the word and thought that was behind my eyes at the end.

[Delmar Cooper]

It is refreshing to meet someone who comes to the point. Refreshing when the point he comes to is the one I was trying to make.

[Chris]

careful what you ask for ...comes to mind...

[Frieda P]

I love how you color out of the lines, some great lines blurbed here, my favorite was...

So convinced, we break away, slip beneath the velvet rope,
Past guards lost in 'stuporous' dreams of cigarettes and coffee.

I mourn for poetry without depth, this hits upon that in blatant colors.

[Delmar Cooper]

Thank you so much. In primary school I received top marks for my precocious ability to "color within the lines." And, of course I spent the rest of my life regretting that "ability." Still if I contrive well enough sometimes a thing may pass a casual inspection. Practice, practice, practice, and we to can get to Seventh Avenue & West 57th Street.

Thanks for your kind words Frieda,
Cooper

[Frieda P]

Is that Broadway or Carnegie Hall? ;-) Was my pleasure to read your scribbles Cooper.