Description: This is a little tidbit that, oddly, came to me while I was in the shower. So, here I go, dripping wet, running around to look for a pen and some paper. An intimate detail, I know, but nonetheless it's one that is worth mentioning because this is how poems come to me these days; in bits and snatches, at the oddest times, then they disappear, or are left hanging open. Does this sound crazy?
What I Once Thought Was Beautiful -------------------------------------------
What I Once Thought Was Beautiful
I am falling slowly;
Infinitely falling from your grasp.
The pressure burns
From where your fingers once lay, covering
My mind's eye,
Slow to recover.
Momentary glances once passed between us;
Now recede into the distance, blurring...
Strange, what I once thought was beautiful.
No, it sounds like... dare I say it... The Universe is channeling ? lol
Someone told me, try a tape-recorder, because I think of 1,001 poems while driving... if I turn on a car, I can write like nobody's business as long as I'm driving... the catch is, you can't write them and drive. I find, I can't dictate them either, I can stream one out and then I get weirded out hearing my own voice...
This is a comment on the description, hmmmm, isn't that stupid of me?
The poem, I like very much. I like the ending line, how we reevaluate things once the touch is gone and we're seeing things again... removing the fingers from the mind's eye is a great metaphor for that awakening to see the person you didn't really look at in that light before... finding them less. It's as sad as it is liberating.
Submission Name: What I Once Thought Was Beautiful
