Friday, June 29, 2007

More

Waking in the moonlight,
she's
went and lost her will to fight,
doesn't have the strength-

not anymore.

Stumbling down dark sidewalks
wondering where the times gone-
used to be
days to waste-

not anymore.

Well they never told her about this
back when she was
innocent.

Filled her head with fairytales
so somehow she expected more.

She expected more.
She expected more


than living under streetlights,
lying her own head off,
everythings a compromise,

life was supposed to be more,
supposed to be more, supposed to be....

its dark now and she's weary,
best to just keep moving,
don't think about it,
don't crave





more.

9 comments:

crimsonflaw said...

dear Sara
I love the way you have left the word '' more '' lying by itself at the end. The poem in ending with this word acquires so much meaning.

As usual the typography is laid down like a beautiful floor..
and the line or phrase that is most meaningful in this poem to me is

'' ..used to be days to waste''

i find it it a beautiful ploy. first you tell us that she is lost and wandering...sadly beyond time, losing her life away and then there is a mention of her wasted days. There is an interesting parallel in the two phases of her life which are made one somehow when wasted time binds them together in your poem.

And looking still deeper into this poem I realize that it is but a few metres from her walk that you have painted with words...

keep writing my friend and lead your readers to your october archives where waits '' this is the heart of darkness''

your friend
shakir

suzanabrams said...

Stumbling down dark sidewalks
wondering where the times gone-
used to be
days to waste-
not anymore.


Love this bit. Strong writing, Sara. :-)

Brian said...

The opening few lines grabbed me right away. And Great use of repetition. Very nice

Saoirse Redgrave said...

Startling and powerful. Great use of repetition, good way to evoke mood.

Well done,
~Saoirse

paisley said...

it was supposed to be a harlequin romance... and ended up a dirty dime store novella....story of my life.....

Marie said...

Lovely words, Sara. I can certainly relate to this.

ozymandiaz said...

The epitaph of so many lives. The root of suffering is the desire for things to be different than they are. How many of us are mired in that desire. I am mired in it now. How aptly you present this.

Rax said...

powerful. captures something we've all been through once in a while. they say the only way to not be disappointed is not to expect anymore. but the initial pain is really as raw as you portrayed it. wonderful.

crimsonflaw said...

i have said it all once before. it is not so much the thought as the execution itself. the arrangement and passage of a questioning attribute finding a calm swirl of understanding.. and the ever masterful typography. and the poem is a marvel of design i nthe way it ends ..in '' more ''.

i looked at it again sara because i found it in the carnival.

and i want all your readers to go read '' she '' and '' this is the heart of darkness '' to understand why i feel compelled to look deep in your thught patterns.

thank you for a lovely graceful carnival and i am as honoured as ever to be a part of all this .. especialy because i found a friend in you .

shakir