Anonymous faces
with transparent eyes
unrecognised by transients
passing by
as disappearing echoes
of another day.
Impassive masks
of fugitives
fleeing from obscurity
as variations floating
in a pale transparent pond.
Detours from distant places
dispassionate diversions
and imaginary moments
existing only
in a stranger’s eye.
Lights above begin to fade
into the silence
descending in anticipation
as the orchestra
begins the overture
that never ends.
From infancy
to maturity and old age
on a rotating stage
carrying the characters
around and around
towards the dimness
of the wings
until the final curtain call
in the darkness
of an empty hall.
Hi Ken, this is wonderfully beautiful but sombre of course.
Thanks Jack. Certain words repeat their meanings. I guess I respond to sombre themes because they reflect my mortal thoughts more than most.
deeply felt and how incredible our descriptives are Ken!
Hi Catherine, I always enjoy a comment
from you, knowing I have written something
I can be proud of.
Hey there! I’ve really enjoyed reading your blog, so I’ve nominated you for the One Lovely Blog Award. Check it out:
http://bestintentionsmom.wordpress.com/2012/05/21/one-lovely-blog-award/
Chi
That was nice of you. Much appreciated.
Thanks for the nomination. Much appreciated.
The circle of life…
another fine piece of poetry from you pen!
Thank you once again freepenny
Great poetry Ken!!!
The knowledge of heaven would inform us that power is useless. How can a Man ignoring death in his dream be spoken to by the heaven? Such a Man has contempt for himself, and, therefore, heaven, heaven created him. Never stopped listening.
Thanks Yilmaz. So glad you liked it. I do believe each life is guided, and vocation determined – by an all knowing, extraordinary immanence, and must learn from pre-ordained experience to know the role – and the meaning behind the terrestrial curtain.
The visions of heaven and beauty of creation is given to benevolent hearts.
Yes, Yilmaz, Heaven and creation are synonymous. A glimpse is enough to know
the journey is long, lonely and arduous – but
necessary, and there are detours and dead ends on the way. hurdles to be overcome, mountains to climb. You refer to God as the driving force – possibly of the universe. I know no name. but we seem to be always discussing this same life force.
.
Yes. Great thinking requires a great catalyst. The journey, the steam room, is the purging place of all impure thoughts.
your poems are like small tours to different places, phases of life.
I expect to visit India early next year.
I love Indian poetry and will meet my publisher
in New Delhi,