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Muse for Monday

MantraMantra has been singing. It has a lot to do with the subject we will begin tomorrow at the eight o’clock post. The name of tonight’s poem is Empty.

As is the usual case with one-word titles, there is much left to personal interpretation. Before you read on, close your eyes and picture empty. Take this mental image with you.

While some pieces of imagery leave little doubt, others give readers imaginative room to apply themselves inside the verse. As you read this poem, stop when you get to a period to give the words a chance to form an image. See if the images change during the poem.

If you had a hard time with envisioning empty, here is but one example. Let’s begin with my initial vision of empty. Get your vision of empty. Ready?

Empty

Empty

There is nothing left.
Spent, wasted, used, thrown.
An absolute emotional vacuum.
An utter wasteland.
The shadow stretches
And curves and tightens.
The pressure feels good.
Support long missing.
Push it away.
The nothing feels better.
No expectations.
No reality encroaching.
No acceptance needed.
When it is all gone,
The stone is not heavy.
Fallen from the neck
Without hitting the feet.
Nothing to sidestep.
Nothing to pick up.
An empty heart is light,
Needs no effort,
Costs nothing.
Most of all,
Feels nothing.

100720110031
© Red Dwyer 2011

Empty

~~~~~~~~~~

What were your empty images? What did the poem make you see? Did it make you feel anything? If so, what? Where was the first place you stepped inside the poem? What was the feeling the poem left behind?


The follow up to this post with the author’s interpretation and discussion is called The Hidden Meaning.

© Red Dwyer 2011-2012
Reblogging of this or any other post on The M3 Blog is expressly forbidden.
Copyright and Privacy Policy available in The Office. 



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27 Comments

  1. I saw and felt my own loss of self. For four months I was protected, while I emptied my heart and soul of all the shoulds, expectations, and guilt. Now I face empty every day when I get a chance to. Only when I face it now, I am drawn back to who I am now.
    Gail Thornton recently posted..Prose – A Flawed LifeMy Profile

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