Definitions

Definitions



Whatever you have seen, you continue to be.
You are beyond things that can be explained.
You are what, after lifetimes of rain, continue to remain,
I say, what are you, when everything is gone?
Packed into bags, and sent into outerspace.

Burning houses, burning beds, pillows that remember your name,
While legions have passed, you smell the same.

You are characters in a book that degrade as I grow,
Words in a book that mean nothing
But ink, burned into paper, surviving,
As memories become people become memories
Forgotten stains.

You are every song that speaks of human lives,
Of Romeos and Juliets, husbands and wives,
You are every suggestion of things that have been felt,
You are this: pictures, strewn across my bed.

You are in shadows that play games,
In darkness and in light,
You are in long legs, encased, in skin that has survived.
You are in the chirping of the birds that is heard as a desperate siren,
For the beauty in the world, that lives as beauty dies.

You are in crusted fingernails, in cracks and dents, in spilt wine on the floor,
You have seen these imperfections, you made them impossible to be ignored.
A gift stripped off its wrapping is merely your possession,
Secrets that gave us shelter,
Secrets that made us bold.

In long drives, through the pane of windows,
I see you in sparse trees.
I see you in the sunlight, but only
Because it is yellow, and undenied.
You stand for dusty curtains, for steam that clouds on glass,
You are a message
You have, perhaps, grown old.

I can hear you in the imperciptible hum
Of the universe as it exists and turns,
A low murmur that patiently reminds me of
An emptiness in the sublime.
An echo that is heard within me, but remains utterly outside,
A chasm that traps a million questions within
The two halves of its crooked smile.

And I say this is because you live in different worlds,
A heart is nothing but a mesh of words with attributed meaning.
I stand as flesh, skin and bone with the promise of your life,
I stand as fluid, liquid hands that hold your fortune within their lines. This is your home, the words I say as I speak in order to be heard,
Your home is a tiny cottage off the shores of my every thought,
Your home is in the lapping waves, in everything my world is not.

Reviews

[Azriel]

great piece, loved the imagery you used throughout it, they're quite vivid and powerful, they really do bring across the emotions quite well. also really loved the ending. overall a wonderful poem

[Nobody]

Good. Very good. Your poem has what every great piece of art has. I didn't understand a single word. Except, Is it TIME.