Flickering Dust

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  • Life

    Flickering Dust

    White waves crash against the shore

    I don’t know a thing anymore

    I can’t tell you what it is, but it wasn’t here before

    Shadows follow me out the front door

     

    Plain talking has gotten real hard

    All the way back at the start

    We’re six long winters apart

    You’re born again and it’s breaking my heart

     

    Longing overgrowth in my chest

    You always knew what was right, what was best

    All those years you chose to invest

    I'm reduced to be just another lousy guest

     

    An angel's dusting off my living room

    She was my love, now she is doom

    Stinking of that all too familiar perfect perfume

    Waiting for some kind of life to resume

     

    Laying here beneath a tree

    And god knows it’s killing me

    I look and look but I don’t see

    Who it is that I’m supposed to be

     

    Dew drops dripping down a withering leaf

    It’s wonderful, weird and awfully brief

    Taking in the vista with considerable disbelief

    It’s just the end of the world, what a relief

     

    It comes around

    We hide and we’re found

    That mellow little sound

    From a casket in the ground

    Poem Comments

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    TinaD commented on Flickering Dust

    01-25-2011

    I totally get this. When a loved one changes to the point that you can't relate to them anymore it is sad, confusing, sorrowful. You expressed it well.
    Reply to Comment

    wamomo commented on Flickering Dust

    11-02-2010

    Change can be difficult...especially when it comes to someone we love when it seems to affect our position with them...add confusion and a fork in the road in our own lives and it can be all together overwhelming. You'll find your way...you have a mind that works well. :-) by the way, this is a fantastic write...and forgive me if I didn't even come close to interpreting what you're trying to convey...sometimes we read some of our own story in other peoples work and don't even realize it...that's the beauty of poetry...reflection. great work!
    Reply to Comment

    ginga commented on Flickering Dust

    10-28-2010

    Olsn, I am always entertained by reading your poems but this one is no exception. Its so matter of fact, yet wrenches at ones ability to except the rejection spoken here. A well said spewing rage completely understood. ginga
    Reply to Comment

    Dano commented on Flickering Dust

    10-28-2010

    you write with such fluidity that makes your work so enjoyable and easy to read... this is a fantastic piece expressing the longing and loss of love and perhaps life
    Reply to Comment

    MindNumbing commented on Flickering Dust

    10-26-2010

    Very interesting write, and quite thought provoking... I can't quite put my finger on its meaning, but I get the feeling there's a death wrapped up in the stanzas somewhere. This made me think of my dad, who died 4 1/2 years ago. Regardless of the inspiration, the rhyming is hypnotic and you've done a fantastic job. Well done!
    Reply to Comment

    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    stigbohnolsen’s Poems (49)

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