11.25.2015

Primitive Reflex

They say
when one window shuts
another opens
when one passes
a new soul is born
but we come
crying
into this cold world
alone
as we leave
and it’s too cold
for that open window
after dark
too lonely for tears


For Fireblossom’s prompt in the Imaginary Garden: DREAD

13 comments:

  1. THIS is BEAUTIFUL! Absolutely perfect.

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  2. Yes, Marian, I think that is the way things are.
    Loved the open window thing, I wouldn't sleep by it. Doing that scares me. Once we stayed at a rundown motel in Oklahoma. The bedroom window wouldn't lock. We took turn staying awake that night.
    ..

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  3. Loneliness... sometimes we have to cope and make into solitude.

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  4. My family spoke all night last night about the existence--or nonexistence--of God, of death, of the meaning of life. This poem would have fit right in...

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  5. One obviously has to fight his own battle. No one is going to make it a piece of cake. Rightly so Marian


    Hank

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  6. Existential dread for sure, and so wonderfully distilled. k.

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  7. we enter alone, we leave alone but in between we long for togetherness. bravo.

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  8. No way was I not going to have an intense reaction to your poem! Beautiful writing ...

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  9. whew. that's the cold that lingers ~

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  10. That's the problem with the nakedly honest -- there's too little solace in it. Too cold, too lonely. So we write poems.

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  11. That's a chill we can never find a blanket warm enough to remove. I have been doing my own contemplating on life...doubting much I once believed.

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