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Reflection on the last Six Months

Last night I saw you stir,
you were half asleep as I was,
listless because life's
a dreary affair, what thoughts
you have of me I do not know,
but the flowers weep no more,

It was your hand that made the sign
and I looked the other way,
old dreams must die someday,
I sighed but still
I listened to the warm words
rise like smoke from your lips,
dead muse that walks again,

I found the air different
when I vacated your shade, freer,
wilder than the goat god promised
and certainly uncertain, it felt like
a dagger in my belly, I bled sweet pain
and twisted like a serpent in my sleep.

She was infinitely more mature
than I am, her words were true,
I am a reflection in a shattered mirror,
the disfigurement must be an illusion
and you, dread love, a dream.

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 


So good to know you rediscovered your love of poetry from which you had said you felt a bit alienated a few days back. A good read..


raj (sublime_ocean)

but the language always pleases. Most important is that you posted at all. That's exciting.

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

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dragging up the uncomfortable truths.
this one reads like it descended upon you and was valiantly wrestled onto paper.

An intriguing write
I thought I had it sussed, until the last stanza....
Who is the other 'she'? A new muse?

great word useage, descriptive and use of imagery
I especially like 'but the flowers weep no more', and the last three lines of the second stanza

love judy

'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)

Good thing you noticed there was another 'she'. That one is a new friend who made an impression on me. She's not the same as the muse I spoke of earlier.

No verse is free for the man who wants to do a good job. - TS Eliot

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