Permutation

I am aware of the sand beneath my vulnerable feet,

as I walk the frothy line where land and water unite,

balancing like some circus performer gripping a parasol,

            but my rope is thin -- occasionally

            I tip toward the sea.

 

Each step is a rearranging of values.

 

It is a curious thing, this land between land --

I imagine it to be a transitory edifice, where upon

a migration toward the blushing sun of the afterlife

            would be easy,

            if I could only keep walking.

 

Sanity and Hysteria are sisters, held in opposite hands.

 

The earth shakes -- I stumble -- my footsteps are uneven,

as I look back upon the scarred distance I have traveled,

littered with brimming suitcases and shattered seashells --

            corpse flowers bloom white

            in my sinking footsteps. 

 

Mnemosyne holds nine candles, lighting redemption’s path.

Reviews

[kublakhan27]

Your muse appears to have acquired a fascination with water and the sea, which I love...I love the feel of water flowing between my fingers, I love the sound and serenity of fountains and wishing wells...as per usual, there are too many individual lines for me to single out as favourites, but the final line really caught my eye...you rarely cite a specific number in your work, which suggests another deeply personal piece...may your future provide an even ground for your footsteps in time.

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

Well, the number was actually a play on the idea of the nine muses that were Mnemosyne's (the goddess of memory) offspring, one of those being the muse of "epic poetry"--this was where the idea of "muse" came from, because it was thought that scholars, poets, thesbians, etc. were drawing upon one of the nine muses of Mnemosyne to create their work. Interesting story on her and her offspring if you like that sort of thing :) Thank you for really reading into this one, my friend! :)

[kublakhan27]

Oh, that goes to show you what I know...but that's one of the reasons I admire your work so much...I know the myths that everyone knows, you know the ones not as prominent in our pop culture, at least not my pop culture :P You know I love reading into your work my friend, even though I feel like I dropped the ball on this one ;)

[Astro]

Sinking footsteps bearing the weight of the world, or at least the weight of a hardened past. You are a wonderful illustrator, for you not only paint the depression but give 'light' to the path where sand becomes firmer ground where footsteps fall more evenly and weights born on shoulders seem lighter still in their carrying. Your verbal collage of images, each worth a thousand words fill the mind of the reader with waves of emotion and leave them happy to have felt your ocean spray. Excellent.

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

You are too kind, my friend...humbled :)

[Astro]

Nope just a little salted now that I've read your poem.

[Dana Alsamsam]

i love that image at the end of the first stanza of tipping towards the sea, like the moontide is taking you in your uncertainty. this whole piece held a feeling of transition, questioning, uncertainty. these lines particularly stood out to me:

"as I look back upon the scarred distance I have traveled,
littered with brimming suitcases and shattered seashells --
corpse flowers bloom white
in my sinking footsteps."

this is such an incredible and unique image...something about shattered seashells and corpse flowers is very appealing to my poetic ear. also, as i've said before, there really is something special you do with those italicized sections. great work!

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

Thank you, Dana...your words mean the world.

[B-poet]

The written format you've displayed here is phenomenal. Your poem is even better. The last three stanza's were my favorite for this piece. Vivid imagery backed by profound & articulate diction. Great work my favorite writing partner. A riveting read. :)

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

Thank you so much, my friend!

[Tom]

Another splendid deep, thoughtful poem here, as the subject walks a fine line between reflective memories of the past not always satisfactorily resolved at times that if dwelt on too long may push her over into the abyss, but in the end fortitude and a positive vibe are the factors that prevail, as there is a welcoming, forgiving prize at the end of life's journey if she can keep on the path she is travelling.

Hindsight is a wonderful thing but then who hasn't made mistakes or had regrets? Another quality poem, a pleasure to read, absorb and review!

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

Thank you so much for reading so deeply into this one, my friend!

[Tom]

You are welcome !

[DJ]

I agree with the comments below, my mind dreams when I read this too. I love the imagery you use, it paints a beautiful picture in the mind. Greek mythology is so intriguing, there is just something special about it that captivates me. Thanks Sarah for another great read :)

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

Thank you so much...it means more than I can say when someone connects to my work!

[Jack...]

My mind dreams as I read your work, it is just something that happens without prior planning or decision. I float, I look down, I experince and I...dream. It is a state of being that engulfs me and I happily accept. Very nicely done my friend.

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

Jack, you are so kind...humbled...

[K. Louis]

I like that simile in the first stanza...and the line that follows...each step is a rearranging of values-- this is growth...and the distance travelled..shattered pieces make their circle..
and you know what? I'm learning greek mythology from you! ha! Well done.

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

haha Yeah, I'm a bit of a mythology buff. lol Thank you so much!

[Pryde Foltz]

This poem reads as a dream, but then I wonder since Mnemosyne holds nine candles if it is not about a traumatic occurrence from your youth. Whatever the case, it would seem you need to continue to tread the line between the conscious and the subconscious and continue to move forward. The suitcases may be full but I don't see unpacking them as being much worth to you now, and shattered shells are simply on their way to sand. Let the sun blush away; the coy mistress she is, she can wait. Great write.

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

Well Mnemosyne was the mother of the nine muses...one of those being epic poetry. I think that this piece was more of a gathering of thoughts on how one has to carefully tread the line between reality and the "otherworld", and not allow memories (Mnemosyne was the goddess of memory) to hold too much sway in the "permutation" of ones life. Thank you so much for reading into this one, Pryde!