No Sense

Freeverse

Music is always loved,

every piece that is heard, felt.

And yet I can play none,

not a chord, not a note.

Art is always stunning,

every piece that is studied, beheld.

And yet I can produce none,

not a drawing, not a painting.

A nosegay is always fragrant,

every one that is inhaled, scented.

And yet I draw in no aroma,

not a whiff, not a redolence.

Food is often tasty,

pieces that are chewed, digested.

And yet I feel like none,

not a repast, not even a snack.

The loved are always cherished,

every one that is clung to, kissed.

And yet I have none,

not a darling, not one even held.

Our own selves are always explained,

every fragment that is we.

Yes I have those, even grains, slivers, particles,

but, as you see, not a part of me evokes reason.

(Jul 2022)

Reviews

[supernova_thoughts]

"but, as you see, not a part of me evokes reason."
I feel you and I hope joy!

[Chris Shaw]

I found this a sad poem as though the poet is seeing and feeling things through mist. Something is missing from life and I felt it deeply here.

Chris