Monday, September 14, 2009

The shape of your face

by JL

A set of houses, cars, and blank faces, others rolling through with deep sound in tune with friends knocking.
The fresh smell in the morning of freshly watered grass, waking up to accurate clocking.
Day and night seeing family roam past mirrors in a reflective ricochet of people, music, and the succulent smell of cooking and shampoo with intelligence against the walls.

Everyday I hear the same sounds like an old event in a time machine running its course.
In a place with gates and doors hundreds run and roar,
typing,
and writing,
listening and debating.
Everything is clear to me, I can see your voice, I can hear the shape of your face, I can feel every breath of the environmental life, I can see.
I can see this page is can be only good.

3 comments:

Annalee said...

That's so amazing. L0v3 !t

queen4aday said...

love the use of unorthodox words (clocking, reflective ricochet, etc.)
would have flowed slightly better if it had been

"In a place with gates and doors hundreds run,
and roar,
typing,
writing,
listening,
debating."

J. Thaler said...

I respectfully disagree with you, Queen4ADay; I prefer the flow in the original. However, I too love the word choice. To me, the least clear part of the poem is the ending. Perhaps the poet can enlighten me...