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Distances
by Michael R. Burch

There is a small cleanness about her,
as if she has always just been washed,
and there is a dull obedience to convention
in her accommodating slenderness
as she feints at her salad.

She has never heard of Faust, or Frost,
and she is unlikely to have been seen
rummaging through bookstores
for mementos of others
more difficult to name.

She might imagine “poetry”
to be something in common between us,
as we write, bridging the expanse
between convention and something . . .
something the world calls “art”
for want of a better word.

At night I scream
at the conventions of both our worlds,
at the distances between words
and their objects: distances
come lately between us,
like a clean break.

Published by Verse Libre, Triplopia, Lone Stars. Keywords/Tags: distance, distances, convention, books, bookstores, art, literature, poetry, chasm, abyss, divide, Faust, Frost, clean break
Cynthia Jean Feb 9
The gap was there
and the bridge had fallen down
long ago.

Cynthia Jean

copyright
February 8 , 2020
Erin Suurkoivu Oct 2019
Break me into chasm
then let the love pour in—
flower into deep well—
stem the umbilicus
of what you could say
you knew of me—

the privilege of living
inside your own head—
and me,
something made of sand,
a wink—

something of one
of many lives ago,
though how well
you knew me—
as did he—
how well they saw me—
and maybe no one did.

We were lovers
in a past life.
And now
I am obscure as
lost Atlantis, origin
of the fairy tale—
fragile
as gossamer and
the Holy Grail.
This poem came about after seeing somebody I used to know on Facebook making a comment on a mutual friend's wall.
Creator Sun Sep 2019
I lag behind
My 'friends',
I noticed that I've become
Invisible. Unnoticed.

A husk of who I was.
A shadow.

A void in the night.
Outshone by the light.
I feel so empty,
Like a thought of the past.

I'm in another dimension,
A wall of words separate us.

Or rather,
A chasm of words unsaid.
Lost words they are,
Just like me:

A shadow.
A shadow of the past.
One of my buddies/peers told the CCA group at whole that she felt 'like a shadow' during ourhat of fears time. I thereby dedicate this poem to her.
Ylzm May 2019
There is a time to Reveal,
There is a time to Conceal.
There is a time to Stand in the Light,
There is a time to Search in the Darkness.

There is a time to Will as we know how,
and to Work with all the Might in our Arms.
There is a time to Yield to the Storms and Floodwaters,
and Surrender to the Thrills and Joys of the Fearsome Whirlwind.

There is a time to be Silent and Distanced,
and be Disciplined by Patience and Perseverance.

But there will be a time when Perfection is Restored,
Forgotten the Impossible Chasm
between the Glimpses and Glances
of the Desire for Oneness
in the Eyes of All Given Us,
And a Chorus of a Myriad upon Myriad of Angels shall Sing,
And Life shall be truly Life.
Rochelle Foles Apr 2019
napowrmo April 3, 2019



                         she stood              on the edge
                                of the  p
                                            r

                                           e
                                           c


                                             i
                                             p

                                             i
                                             c
                                             e

                       pebble in hand
                                   mind
                                   blanketed in fog

                      staring intently
                      quietude engulfing all

              
                      she lay on her belly
                                    arm stretched     o.      u.        t.
                                               over the abyss


                      closing her eyes
                      tipping her ear toward the           unfathomable depths
                                    she loosened her grip
                                               and began counting  




                                     infinity
                                              takes forever
                                              one number at a time



                         © rochellefoles 2019
NAPOWRMO day 3,  pondering the depth of loss i’m feeling over my mother’s death
Eloisa Aguirre Apr 2019
I want to find you
Aristophanes told me about you
And the completion of my soul
Our soul

I want to find you
But Heidegger tells me to wait
Let the wind carry remembrance
Let love find me

I learnt it is possible
Your existence
Maybe you don’t know
But I am possible

I want to live in a van with you
Learn how to love technology
And appreciate what brings us

I want to live in a van with you
Learn to depend on my own
And paradoxically depend on our unison while self-relying

I am tired of planning my tomorrow
I do not wish to have you tomorrow
I wish to find you now

I want to live in a van with you
Travel the world apeiron* gave us
And be alone in the universe
Paradoxically enjoy my solitude with you

I wonder if you sing the same song
And if you are shaped to meet me
And the world I know of

I want to be your nobody
And live alone with you
In a moving home
In a moving truck

I want to hate me
And hate you too
Just to realize hate and love are the same coin just different sides

I want to depend on the harmony
And the tension of true songs
While we learn to fit in each other
And cry in unison

One song
Two souls
One friendship
Two forces
*apeiron: from Ancient Greek philosophy. Originated from Anaximander’s theory on the origin of all. I pair with the meaning of chasm or the chaos Heraclitus talks about before anything existed
Pyrrha Jan 2019
I have gold coursing through my veins and silver flooding in my lungs that turn into richened glitter with every exhale
My mind is a garden with exotic fauna to leave all who enter in awe
My words are like the sharpest blades that pierce into a battlefeild of whirling lies
My heart is a chasmic void to trap you in my sweetest lullaby
For my poetry is the wing of a butterfly and a drop of poison all in one
Lucy Dec 2018
Dare I
disturb
the Chasm’s part
that mirrors,
echoes,
in the dark?

It takes
the words
I know so well
and binds them,
flips them,
in its spell.

No more
know I
what they should mean,
my words
in Chasms
are unseen.

And when
my words
I cannot find,
the Chasm
echoes,
takes my mind.
I wrote this after I got into a fight with my friend.
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
With its parched dreams,
beneath the zizzing sands,
the river waits for a surging swell
to take it to the labyrinths of a
new consciousness.

You choose your own course
when you crash into the
chasms of meaninglessness.

You hibernate to the still zone
trancing between words
when words fail to contain you.

As you flow through me,
you become the sacrarium
in the labyrinths of my consciousness
for me to diffuse in your soul’s stillness.
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