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silver-end ribbons


I can't block the light,
the wool blanket shade is not hanging quite right.
The curtains of rain found my shoulders,
and the cold found my heart.

My pride is all gone and I don't want it back
but the friends that I've lost,
I'm not quite the same with this hole in my heart
that leads to a past lost on changes.

We drove through the night,
my good friend and I,
it was love at first sight,
when the road stole our sleep
and the desert stole our light.

Now the city is cold,
I can't breath the air in this room anymore.
The sound in the hall is a woman
who traded her son away,
for a framed yellow ribbon and a flag in the clay.
Choose every word with your heart she would say.
Her eyes knew I had fallen when the night broke the day.

Blame the cold winter wind and the streets filled with sin,
when they board up the house where you live.
Blame the lily in hand when the grave that you stand
belongs to a rose with roots in the sand.

Through the broken back hours,
the evenings that made them,
we invented a place for to bleed them.
We were the authors of handwritten daggers,
the bastard of truth with it's skin just like paper.

I wish that you remembered.

To leave me something they can't take away,
after the barter is through for the day,
and the saints all confess to the lord they betray,
their hands place the children in the sand from the day.

When I know that a flag they won't raise,
please tell mother that her words did not waste.
It was cold every night that I spent in disgrace,
I'll be happy to sleep through the last;
Knowing it's all silver-end ribbons...

Epurcelly, nice piece of work.
Georges

Epurcelly~

Such dismal atmosphere! I love it!

There is nothing on re-reading that i can put my finger on, but when i first read this something about it reminded me of the White Stripes (Jack White)...nothing plageristic just something about the tone(?!)

Do you happen to listen to them?

Thanks for sharing another great poem.

Laurie

Laurie-
I actually don't listen to the White Stripes. Their music is cool but I just can't get past the drumming

Aww. Too bad. I know there are folks out there who just don't care the duet. It is an unconventional approach.

Anyways, Jack is a great lyricist (i think). And i 'dig' their music, too

toodles,
L

EP-
That is beautiful.

Blame the cold winter wind and the streets filled with sin,
when they board up the house where you live.
Blame the lily in hand when the grave that you stand
belongs to a rose with roots in the sand.

I think thats my favorite part, but I love the whole thing. Keep posting

Hi Epurcelly ~

These phrasings particularly struck me:

"I can't block the light,
the wool blanket shade is not hanging quite right."

"... with this hole in my heart
that leads to a past lost on changes."

"The sound in the hall is a woman
who traded her son away,
for a framed yellow ribbon and a flag in the clay.
Choose every word with your heart she would say."

"We were the authors of handwritten daggers,
the bastard of truth with it's skin just like paper."

"...and the saints all confess to the lord they betray,
their hands place the children in the sand from the day."

I'm not sure why I felt the desire to isolate these, apart from the rest, rather than comment on your poem as a whole. These were just really impacting for me.

~ Lizzy