"solem" poems - Hello Poetry

The tangible entity of consciousness is fleeting Scene: A elegant party but not quite extravagant Clinking wine glasses echo through transparent walls Twenty-two hundred lulls over the city like that of a shadow This isn’t an ungodly hour nor is this a typical night It starts when She enters in a red gown that elongates her figure A pianist smirks in the corner — a grin that’s almost sinister The clinking of wine glasses abruptly stops when its replacement of grim notes fills the glass house The attendants still seem cheerful (How peculiar?) A stranger pulls her into a waltz but his eyes look hauntingly familiar Unbenounced to her, He too dances with a stranger Both on separate sides of the glass room Both dancing with the unknown Yet each pair seems to recognize some prominent feature Nostalgic for what has never been (How do you preserve a memory in reality?) Through the glass house mirrors sit in obscure angles One could see that within each reflection He and She were projected into the other room Each glance towards the mirrors posed no questions For both pairs seemed identical Now their lives may have been content in accepting this dance with a “stranger” I suppose But that was not the plan of this party For guests grew tired of sipping on Beaujolais and listening to solem tunes The pianist presented a different song, more lively yet equally eerie Their feet paced with the new rhythm which called for a spin (An act as dramatic as such was only proper for the scene) With a grand gesture She turns, finally seeing the glass barriers And for the first time that night He and She were face to face A perfect dilemma to entertain an audience In a frenzy She tried to speak “I love you” “I love you” “I love you” But each plea for affection deemed futile For the grin on His face became that of the pianist Her emotions were a downward spiral of gray shaded confusion And with a sinister laugh He (or he) smashed the glass, shredding all source of reality He was the hallucinogen and She was angry at him for making Her feel And each guest cheered “bravo” demanding an encore But this tragedy, dear friends, has come to the end She’ll never know how the stars look where he is (Is such a loss truly a loss?)

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Jun 14, 2018

Jun 14, 2018 at 12:11 AM UTC

entystnad

Facade

The tangible entity of consciousness is fleeting Scene: A elegant party but not quite extravagant Clinking wine glasses echo through transparent walls Twenty-two hundred lulls over the city like that of a shadow This isn’t an ungodly hour nor is this a typical night It starts when She enters in a red gown that elongates her figure A pianist smirks in the corner — a grin that’s almost sinister The clinking of wine glasses abruptly stops when its replacement of grim notes fills the glass house The attendants still seem cheerful (How peculiar?) A stranger pulls her into a waltz but his eyes look hauntingly familiar Unbenounced to her, He too dances with a stranger Both on separate sides of the glass room Both dancing with the unknown Yet each pair seems to recognize some prominent feature Nostalgic for what has never been (How do you preserve a memory in reality?) Through the glass house mirrors sit in obscure angles One could see that within each reflection He and She were projected into the other room Each glance towards the mirrors posed no questions For both pairs seemed identical Now their lives may have been content in accepting this dance with a “stranger” I suppose But that was not the plan of this party For guests grew tired of sipping on Beaujolais and listening to solem tunes The pianist presented a different song, more lively yet equally eerie Their feet paced with the new rhythm which called for a spin (An act as dramatic as such was only proper for the scene) With a grand gesture She turns, finally seeing the glass barriers And for the first time that night He and She were face to face A perfect dilemma to entertain an audience In a frenzy She tried to speak “I love you” “I love you” “I love you” But each plea for affection deemed futile For the grin on His face became that of the pianist Her emotions were a downward spiral of gray shaded confusion And with a sinister laugh He (or he) smashed the glass, shredding all source of reality He was the hallucinogen and She was angry at him for making Her feel And each guest cheered “bravo” demanding an encore But this tragedy, dear friends, has come to the end She’ll never know how the stars look where he is (Is such a loss truly a loss?)