Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Dancehall Daze

Concierges Rue du Dragon Paris 1945 ~ Robert Doisneau

Down at the water’s edge translating visions to flesh
Down by the river carrying dreams out to sea
Down by the water’s bright edge
Where the half-dead men dance
A sad and faltering fandango
With the ghosts of my vanity

Whisper don’t waken the beasts of my childhood
Whisper those secrets in vacuum night hollow
Whisper my dull wishes
In the hall’s half-shell echo
As if dances with dead men
Will capture my sanity

9 comments:

Harnett-Hargrove said...

This brings up illusions for me.
Things better left unremembered and the chalk line between life and death.
-J

the feeling lioness said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Pisces Iscariot said...

Jayne: or between then and now :]

Lioness: thanks for visiting :)

Harlequin said...

whisper, whisper, whisper; down, down, down...
i like how you use the repeating motif, the rhythm and shape of this poem.
and how you put words together.
evocative.

practical industrial applications said...

I always love how you build a poem with the most perfect composition!

Pisces Iscariot said...

Harlequin & pia: I sometimes think that if I don't compose these so-called poems into some sort of coherent shape then they are nothing more than sentences parading as poetry :/

Punch said...

a pause for a whisper

Confessions of a Temporal Lobe said...

I were here.

Pisces Iscariot said...

Punch: or a scream

Lobe: you wuz