I press quiet against the glass
and you press up against yours
In halls and paths we’ll never pass,
confined to walls and just one door.
We’re soft, we’re hard, we weep and toil
graveyard plants in potted soil
The gardener and the bots, you see
tend to us so carefully
We’re framed with dreams of love and sky
never seeing with our eyes
She dreams of fires beside the beach
his eyes, his soul, his gilded speech
But glass and prints of hand remain
All our dreams are in a frame
I am electric – you are too
The charge is gone then so are you
Dare she throw the cord away
and touch his hand in bright of day?
And then out of the room she grew
no gardener, no bots of blue
She walked barefoot along his path
Her breath a cloud upon his glass
He saw her face beyond the frame
everything was not the same
Skin so pale – not strong – but weak
“You are not the one I seek.
go back behind your frame of blue.
I am me, but who are you?”
~Marlies Vonn
WOW. Please send that in somewhere to get published, Marlies! It is so f’ing good!!!!
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You won’t believe it… I actually wrote it for a contest and asked for feedback and a few people on the website told me they were confused and didn’t get how it was connected to the concept of a cell phone lol
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That is unbelievable! Clearly, they were very stupid people!
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I think they were projecting their thoughts on how they would have written the poem. I guess sometimes my material is super “out of the box”… I dunno. And I had a huge migraine while writing this one… lol so I was definitely mentally and physically “out of the box”
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well, ‘out of the box’ is interesting, and brilliant. So, I still stand by my previous assessment – they are very stupid. Ha!
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A really powerful poem, Marlies! Beautiful in it’s truth of our cellphone age.
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Thank you so much Pearl! I wrote this one in the middle of a massive migraine. It’s weird how I get inspired while in pain… lol
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