Monday, April 17, 2006

missing the snow



swirling shadows in your night
i cant help seeing ghosts in you
in your darkness
fresh air fills my lungs
and i am lost
with each new breath

5 comments:

tiffany said...

You may remember seeing this picture before. I thought it would be interesting to use the same picture for a new poem in the efforts of demonstrating that poetry can be written from outside of the self. Not all poems need to be true, but the good ones are True.

Jessie said...

damn--now that i've read your comment i don't know if i want to tell you what i was thinking. i was going to say that it's so nice to find someone who appreciates winter in the same way as i do...but now i don't know if you (or your poem)are telling the truth or not.

i feel betrayed.
:)-

tiffany said...

My poems always tell the Truth. But they aren't always factual encounters that took place at one time or another.

v said...

poetry isn't about Truth

that's the job of fiction

tiffany said...

V, you present an interesting dichotomy. Truth is the job of fiction. Hmmm.... I guess I believe that all works of art (be they poetry, paintings, novels, or something else) must make us think about the world around us. Whether they reveal Truth or Lies, doesn't depend upon the medium in which they are presented. A painting can Lie as easily as a poem can. I want to experience art that tells of Truth, but that doesn't mean it has to accurately reproduce the world exactly. Even photographs can lie. It's all about what you put in them.