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sharonlee-goodhandPoems
Twilight Dreams in Retrospect (Along Oxford Street, 1980) Feet walked a scornful pavement no empathy there where scores of mindless feet blindly trod Monotonous sounds poisoned the evening air terrace houses wedged in behind aging fences TV’s, volume bellowing 7 channels and news at 5 spilled from windows open to capture the feverish breeze Voices in argument or play… sharp words slice through frying onions and fetid odors humanity’s debris over-flows bins … such is life when **** sapiens, trapped in the machinations of predetermined destiny live in congested clusters I turn a corner into Oxford Street… in aching silence my mind screams - - Do you not see that we are all shadows of who we were meant to be? For dreams can only live when freed of the dying dreamer… What Twist of fate brought me here aimlessly wandering streets not my own? Moth to candle flame ghosts beckon with crooked claws… … eerie calls shivered on twilight’s quivering breath… sunset, a mere flicker through dappled trees offers little light in its final moment Thoughts trail in tangled streamers inevitably following as feet trace an invisible path through inner city streets Somewhere a dove weeps to witness days demise, grey shades growing dimmer, dimmer still surely the dove knows There can be no light without the dark and In darkness, we have to light our own fire- - feed our own dreams and desire paint the night in cosmic lights and fear not the silent shadows… Three hours bled into street-glow and dark corners as I walked, with aimless intent time slipping into moments lost in remembrance of forgotten dreams… … once I thought heard… or dreamt I heard an angel sing and watched as halo’d stars Surrendered to her call. * Art & Poetry Sharonlee©5-Jul-13 * In this poem the Oxford St I refer to is in the inner-city of Sydney, New South Wales, Australia.
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Jul 26, 2013
Jul 26, 2013 at 9:17 AM UTC
Twilight Dreams in Retrospect (Along Oxford Street, 1980)
Twilight Dreams in Retrospect (Along Oxford Street, 1980) Feet walked a scornful pavement no empathy there where scores of mindless feet blindly trod Monotonous sounds poisoned the evening air terrace houses wedged in behind aging fences TV’s, volume bellowing 7 channels and news at 5 spilled from windows open to capture the feverish breeze Voices in argument or play… sharp words slice through frying onions and fetid odors humanity’s debris over-flows bins … such is life when **** sapiens, trapped in the machinations of predetermined destiny live in congested clusters I turn a corner into Oxford Street… in aching silence my mind screams - - Do you not see that we are all shadows of who we were meant to be? For dreams can only live when freed of the dying dreamer… What Twist of fate brought me here aimlessly wandering streets not my own? Moth to candle flame ghosts beckon with crooked claws… … eerie calls shivered on twilight’s quivering breath… sunset, a mere flicker through dappled trees offers little light in its final moment Thoughts trail in tangled streamers inevitably following as feet trace an invisible path through inner city streets Somewhere a dove weeps to witness days demise, grey shades growing dimmer, dimmer still surely the dove knows There can be no light without the dark and In darkness, we have to light our own fire- - feed our own dreams and desire paint the night in cosmic lights and fear not the silent shadows… Three hours bled into street-glow and dark corners as I walked, with aimless intent time slipping into moments lost in remembrance of forgotten dreams… … once I thought heard… or dreamt I heard an angel sing and watched as halo’d stars Surrendered to her call. * Art & Poetry Sharonlee©5-Jul-13 * In this poem the Oxford St I refer to is in the inner-city of Sydney, New South Wales, Australia.
sharonlee-goodhand
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sharonlee-goodhand
Jul 26, 2013
Jul 26, 2013 at 9:17 AM UTC
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