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Rough Outline
My hand caresses the cover of this notepad unevenly due
to the rings that bound the sheets of my existence, a cover
to all these words written down on paper, keeping you
locked in the story of us, never fading off these sheets as
ink has sealed you on the pages of his-story. Avoiding
paper cuts, turning the first pages reveals my endless
table of contents that break each chapter of this life,
into numbers, maybe representing years, months,
weeks, days, hours or minutes that felt the need to tell
you a story, but there had to be places we could bookmark.
Scrolling through each chapter till I find a blank slate to
carve my next stroke of genius, each page read
over past LIFES’ seasonal periods feel like I’ve been
living this life on the wrong side of a love poem, like you
have been locked outside your own heart;
why has each day of love I felt, fell like leaves falling
on a cold autumn day, like a cold hearted wind pushing
droplets of rain into your face, momentarily blinding
your vision of the rainbow ahead of you.
Lost within the words & paragraphs, sometimes these
pages fabricate reality within but feel like I am treading
water in a blank white ocean searching for my escape.
Couldn’t you just erase me, delete me from your memory,
remove me from your contact list, while I try to backspace
each letter of your name, 1 by 1, from my sheets, fully
knowing the only way to remove you is to use tears,
liquid courage, tear drops fall onto words and pull ink
from paper but soil the pages’ foundation sooo no.. No,
liquid paper; but you are still carved into each sheet, ink
can only be covered but you still lie underneath on each sheet.
I… I need to finish this chapter!!!
Words will always continue to project themselves
from the typewriter storied in the attic of my mind &
these sheets of paper were all that was left to keep
her from fading away, buried eyes deep in words,
suffocating from your bold font, holding on for so long to this story…
eventually ink runs dry…
This extended metaphor is
This extended metaphor is epic in its brilliance, and in the adroit way you deploy it through many details that quietly accumulate into the poem's emotional poignancy. Its centerpiece line, and the center of its gravity and power, is "living this life on the wrong side of a love poem." I have been reading poetry for over forty-seven years, and, I can say with utmost certainty, that is one of the most perfectly profound lines I have ever encountered. That line should be in all the quotation books, and you should be very pleased to have composed it. I applaud this poem, that line, and your verbal skill as a Poet.
Starward
Thank you very much for your
Thank you very much for your kind words, I sometimes forget about my poems and when I get a comment such as yours, motivates me to write again, now if only my brain can find that motivation
I am sure your verbal skill
I am sure your verbal skill will find plenty of motivation
Starward