*Potes is my personal slang term for poetry. As in, “Yeah, I got my potes on me.”
What has always fascinated me about the sad facets of life (i.e. death of a loved one), is how beauty is the other side of the same coin. I find I am constantly looking into that beautiful sadness.
sad/beautiful
there is a hole and
as the tale goes
an infinite being with arms
like the aftermath
of a bomb
so fearless it ceases
the heart so certain it
cauterizes the wound of
containment our
little selves
children
of a wiser source enchanting
explosions on the sun
when the moon turned red we
knew we knew
the sudden vast center
expanded dropping messages
our own tales told
back to us through the machines
we ride
motion is the only way to defeat
the sad beautiful
motion is the only way to ignore
the endless reverberation
of nothing to hold
on to
happyflowerwordzoo002 says
Wonderfully solemn, a sad/beautiful mourning; This line – motion is the only way to defeat
the sad beautiful – reminds of grieving I have had to do and learning there is nothing to hold onto. Like the hush of this poem.
gautami tripathy says
Sad but so very beautiful. I can’t get out the lines from my mind.
half-way through
The Accidental Novelist says
@happyflower – that’s exactly it. when a loved one dies, we try to grab a hold of something that is impossible to hold. the only way to go on is to keep going on.
I’m thinking of editing the word “defeat” though – I’m not sure if that’s exactly right.
C. Lee McKenzie says
Beautiful thoughts here and ones that never cease to help while we “keep going on.”
Come over to the Write Game, dear. You won.
The Accidental Novelist says
Yay! I’m a winner!