Untitled

Untitled

A Poem by Penguin
"

foreboding.

"
This perpetual and omnipresent foreboding
I see it in the patterns my sparse breaths make on the window's surface,
A mirror to another world on this hollow, melancholic November afternoon.

I hear it in the trembling of my bones.
Echos of future regret,
Yet to carve my beating heart right out of this body.

I feel it in the way that air seems to evade me in those moments
Few and far between 
When the day has long since left us and the night fragments,
Splinters, as the streetlamp outside my window suddenly flickers on and
off
spontaneously plunging us into complete darkness.

And most of all I know it when I can almost feel the whisper of a tear trailing down my cheek.

The back of my neck prickles in this room, so chillingly calm
Dyed with the colours of an autumn dusk, light fading

Out there, everything is coming to an end. 

Ripples in a pond;
Travelling back through the years to a me safe from these memories yet made.

'She' leaves and the room is empty once more,
Save for the shadows of bare trees moving across the walls, coaxed into silent dance by the evening's dying breeze
And the haunting harmony of my shallows breaths, infused only with the wallclock's melody;

tick.
tock.
tick.
tock.

© 2013 Penguin


Author's Note

Penguin
i guess this only entirely makes sense to me.
the 'she' referred to towards the end would be some kinda of physical embodiment of a future version of the speaker in the poem that felt present in the room.
(haha idk if this makes sense it's 6am and i haven't gone to bed yet oops)

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Reviews

I really like this one. The language is inviting, even though the scene it draws is dark and sad; the lines of the poem draw the reader into the room, and understanding becomes tacit.

Posted 6 Years Ago


The words and phrases are well put together. Wonderful poem :)

Posted 6 Years Ago


This comment has been deleted by the poster.
This simply a gorgeous piece of writing. I love this line:

A mirror to another world on this hollow, melancholic November afternoon.

The piece is truly filled with lyrical melancholy. Bravo!

Posted 6 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

This comment has been deleted by the poster.

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300 Views
3 Reviews
Rating
Added on December 31, 2012
Last Updated on April 26, 2013
Tags: foreboding, time, clock, end, death, melancholy, autumn, room, empty, regret, heart, future, past, memories, haunting, memory

Author

Penguin
Penguin

London, United Kingdom



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“It's hard to tell the difference between sea and sky, between voyager and sea. Between reality and the workings of the heart.” more..

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