Monday, January 09, 2012

On the Street Where You Live

Balcony via Retronaught
[Soviet Lithuania 1960s -1970s]

In the echoing screams of an empty house
Lives a man without purpose
He lurches from room to room in the vain hope
Of finding his ghosts on duty

At the loom of his future

By the resonant pendulum tick... tock...
Lives a man without purpose
He watches those hands circle in the vain hope
Of finding his ghosts

At the doorway of day’s end

Under the chanting conundrum sound-scape
Lives a man without purpose
These words wander in in the vain hope
Of finding his ghosts

At the chorus line cancelled

But echoes, demarcations and drumbeats
Don’t count much for nothing
In the burdensome days
Of a man without purpose

7 comments:

Letitia Coyne said...

Lovely.

Nothing counts much for nothing in these days. Sending hugs anyway.

Lxx

Courtney said...

This is a beautiful shot :-)

Baino said...

Change 'man' to 'woman' and I think you have me in a nutshell. Although the photo reminds me of leaning out of a Paris window in 2010...fantastic people watching but still...without purpose

Harlequin said...

the image and the poem are so well connected, it's eerie.
i loved the poem.

Confessions of a Temporal Lobe said...

Typo:
These words wander [in in] the vain hope

This poem reminded me of my Ghost of a Father.

Garth said...

Letitia: the less it counts the more we hurt :/

Courtney: I can't take credit for the visuals but hope they do enhance the script ;]

Baino: oooo Paris ladidah :)

Harlequin: fanx pal

Lobi: aint no typo dahlin - them words are infact wandering in, their hope is in vain ;]
From what I know of your family history your father had to contend with some immensely strong women - most men do find that difficult :D

Confessions of a Temporal Lobe said...

Holy crap. Seriously that line would not land in my head until just now! I hate when that happens.

Mea Culpa!