Poem #171 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie.
Back to Bachelard and me – Introduction
I stared at the wall
saw nothing
listened closely to …
.
.
.
.
tried to write
with fingers paralyzed
by nothing
I watched my imagination
dark glasses
fedora
long coat
and a cane
tap tap tap
tap-ping
echoes in the dark
fog on the footpath
the halo of a lamp
suggested
a long way
away
but here there is nothing
not the roar of traffic
not the sight of sunshine
not
the warm
flowing from a fire
the red and yellow
of leaping flame
I don’t know
where
it’s gone
I can’t see
the way I should
I can’t hear the things
the crickets after rain
cicadas in the distance
a blowfly
on the screen
no
my imagination is gone
from me
© Frank Prem 2018
Bachelard and me Poem #172: testing (behind the screen)
Yet nothing
filled the corridors
Nothing
filled my mind
stopped
my movement.
Nothing
rocked my foggy mind
to sleep.
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to the welcome arms of sleep. That would be a nice ending Chelsea.
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I could relate to the rhythm and message and felt obliged to continue it.
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That’s lovely. A good conclusion.
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Psst….I think your imagination walked away with this poem. Lol. Love your ingenuity.
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hehe and I want it back right now! There is work to be done.
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ha ha ha
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Also – thank you for a lovely compliment.
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You are very welcome. Love your poetry.
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Thank you.
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