Friday, October 02, 2009

Don't Give it Away



Like fingertips finding the barely perceivable textured marks on the underside of the cards you’ve been dealt, you will worry the scars of your previous defeats and embarrassments though avenues of time to eddy in alleyways of concern before spewing out upon the doorstep of tomorrow with your heart in your hands and your dreams turning like unpicked fruit on the vine.

Like fingertips finding the corners of newspaper pages, you will turn the leaves of the night in a dream of bright new tomorrows and awaken to the headlines of another false dawn where the words are arranged to extract from your heart the essence of hope; the air from your lungs, the silver from your spine and the awe from your smile.

Like fingertips finding the lips of your lover in the murmuring half-light between days and desire, you will follow the contours familiar and new to shine light in the eyes of passing street lights and under the closed doors of tomorrow where the world waits impervious, impassive – knowing you will have to pass it on your way.

Like fingertips finding the knots on the rope used for sounding the depths where the estuary of now meets the ocean of tomorrow, you will measure the past as your ballast and hope love will be your sails before the wind that will blow you between reefs and regattas to the coastlines of dreams and the salt on your tongue.

Like fingertips leaving their mark on the glass where your breath has condensed during a road-trip to forever in a childhood memory, you will grasp at the images once so easily lived but now haunting your heart with the rust of regret, scenes that demand that you construct a machine capable of travelling in time.

14 comments:

the walking man said...

machines may be faster ways around the feeling but the touch teaches more than the blur of a landscape whizzing past.

Yodood said...

Exquisite. I have to stop myself reading it over and over for the mind massage. Can't get too comfortable, as my finger find the back button.

Pisces Iscariot said...

walking man: but the sense of smell bypasses all layers of meaning and cuts directly to the experience.

Yodood: Glad you enjoyed - you're not afraid of the dark ;)

Cinnamon said...

This is awesome. You are in another league. Totally. '...during a road-trip to forever in a childhood memory..'- this is awesome writing- I've said it again! All extrapolated from fingertips...
I think it best to time-travel in our minds though :)

Pisces Iscariot said...

Cinnamon: the use (misuse) of 'awesome' TWICE in one comment... I'll let you off this time :]

willow said...

Now this is an intriguing piece of writing, I must admit.

Thanks for stopping by my place, Mr. Iscariot.

Cinnamon said...

not a misuse!

Candie Bracci said...

That was beautiful,hope you won't be offended by the use of that word.Mean it,nice piece of writing!

Pisces Iscariot said...

Willow: Thank you Ms Willow

Cinnamon: :D

Candie: Merci! No offence :)

Greenfingers said...

'Like fingertips'...this was brilliant.

JeffScape said...

Excellent stuff... like a thought trying to breathe, if that makes sense.

Well, makes sense to me. Nice work.

Pisces Iscariot said...

Greenfingers: thank you

Jeffscape: "like a thought trying to breathe" - makes perfect sense, love it!

Harlequin said...

I absolutely loved your second last stanza...
and the whole piece was so ....haptic.
It is something you do so well and one of the reasons I enjoy reading what you write.

Pisces Iscariot said...

Harlequin: before looking it up I tried to guess what 'haptic' meant; presuming a mix of chance & disarray :) - thank you I now have a new word relating to 'tactile' :)