After much brouhaha over my poem Survivors, I am reluctantly putting out another one for your perusal, but this one has a request: Tell me what it means to you.
Image via Wikipedia
It is all about you.
Contrary to all of my noon posts for a week, eh? Well, this one truly is about you. When writers show you their creative side, they are offering you the soft spot. You can stroke it gently or sink in a dagger. Either way, the writer gets much-needed input to hone the creative process.
What did you hear?
Communication is rarely an equal opportunity two-way street. More often than not, what we say is interpreted by our recipients into something completely different from what we meant. (Cue game of telephone for giggles.)
Listen with your heart.
Please read the poem with your mind and heart open. Tell me what it says to you.
Interrupted
The hours ebb and flow, though I have
no concept of their passage.
I see only those things I can reach
here in the inky darkness.
Faintly in the distance, I hear the bell,
but daren’t assume it tolls for me.
Yet, still I wonder, if at the other
end you hold my happiness.
Reluctantly, I raise it to my ear,
coaxing only a breathless, timid, “Hello?”
Warmth engulfs my body and soul as
your sultry voice purrs into my ear.
“Hello, my love,” and my eyes close
tightly, conjuring your face before them.
I feel your embrace for a moment before
it fades chilly away without you here.
As I put down the phone, an overwhelming
emptiness replaces your warmth.
My soul so desolate the desert seems
lush, should you choose to compare.
Was I right to torment myself with
what I cannot have?
To punish us both for the precious
time we fleetingly share?
Would only the chance present itself
where we could ride away
With the top down, we would drive
toward the mountain skies,
Stopping only to drink in the natural
beauty, inevitably interrupted
By our own desire, slaked only when
locked in each others’ eyes.
Image via Wikipedia
Author’s Note: If you enjoyed this poem at all, please visit its original home and vote/rate accordingly.
Angela Young
/ November 28, 2011Wow! The link to it’s original spot did not work.
annmariedwyer
/ November 28, 2011Try it again..I just clicked and it went through…Sooooooooo, what did it mean to you?
G Devan Smith
/ November 28, 2011interesting… as I read the first two stanzas (?) I was reading with Anna in mind… until I hit the third. Then I knew what was REALLY about, and it kinda brought me out of my vision of Anna. It’s dealing with being with somebody who belongs to another.
The poem is beautifully written… but part of me’s thinking of “why be in that relationship? To be in this state of self inflicted pain is tantamount to emotional masochism!” And thus the romanticism of the poem got crushed by the hammer of reality.
But that’s just me.
annmariedwyer
/ November 28, 2011Very interesting take on it. I like that it made you think. And that it made you feel. Thank you, D. Red.
G Devan Smith
/ November 28, 2011no problem… that was my very first reaction.
Angela Young
/ November 28, 2011What did it mean? Still thinking, but for me it read like a mental tryst with a lost loved one. Not sure how the phone call fits in with that unless it’s metaphorical lol. Whether I get it or not, I enjoyed the ride:) I think the link problem is that I’m on Explorer.
annmariedwyer
/ November 28, 2011That is entirely possible, Angie. All of my links are set to open a new tab or window. So, your pop-up blocker may have stopped it. Try looking there to see if you can see it. If not, copy the link and paste into your browser. http://annmariedwyer.hubpages.com/hub/beauty-interrupted
Androgoth
/ November 28, 2011At first glance it seems as though it is a ghost looking beyond the corridor of space where time merges with reality, catching a glimpse of what was before and wanting to feel that presence again, but with a fading into the depths of darkness the fracturing of time is always just out of reach for them, two souls parted and yet not fully separated, and even through death the feelings are only to be as one again, in another time, in another moment where love in its essence can hopefully penetrate even the darkest of hurdles…
Of course there are numerous reflections that one can draw from this poetry, and as already suggested by an earlier reader it could be that two lovers long to be together but are held back through circumstance, or perhaps it is of another scenario?
It will be interesting to see what other readers draw from this poem…
Androgoth XXx
annmariedwyer
/ November 28, 2011What a lovely take on the poem. I like what the inky darkness evoked in you. Do follow to see what else may develop. Red. xxx
Androgoth
/ November 28, 2011Yes I will call again on the morrow, well later today actually as I am certainly burning the candle at both ends this day and evening 🙂 I too am enjoying the different thoughts on this fine poetry of yours Red, it is truly amazing what a poem can evoke in one is it not? 🙂
Be very well my wickedly fine friend and do enjoy your ‘Me’ time 🙂
Androgoth XXx
annmariedwyer
/ November 28, 2011Rest well, my fine friend. I hope to elicit your commentary here and elsewhere later in your today and on my morrow. xxx Red.
James Parsons
/ November 28, 2011It sounds as if you love some one and you are waiting on him. But you only get a phone call. You want him there but he can’t be, and you feel lost and alone again after you hang up the phone. Your time together is short if at all. It also sounds as if he is married because you torment yourself knowing you can’t truly have him. But if you had the chance to run away with him you would. Pain and pleasure all in one. Very heartwarming. Great poem Red.
annmariedwyer
/ November 28, 2011Interesting what is being interpreted. I like this. A. Lot. Red.
awarewriter
/ November 28, 2011I see metaphor here Red.
A person separated from their inner being or soul senses and makes the delicious connection, becoming a whole person. But the connection is broken, desolation sets in and having tasted wholeness (however briefly), longs to reconnect.
John
annmariedwyer
/ November 28, 2011It takes a writer to see metaphor. Angie saw it, too. I love the input! Thank you, McD. Red.
Ted Atwell
/ November 28, 2011To me this poem is talking about a person that is in love with another person that is probably married. They love them so much that they are tormented by only having limited time with their lover.
A second thought I had was that it was about a lover who had lost the love of their life. Maybe a dream or a vision of the phone ringing. As his warmth leaves you, you realize that you will never be with him again and the chill sets in..
My third thought I will keep to myself because it would be an ugly possibility on this beautiful poem. My damn psychology class probably brought it to mind.
annmariedwyer
/ November 28, 2011Don’t you dare hold out on me! Tell me….Red.
AnnaBaileyPopejoy
/ November 28, 2011In the beginning I thought it was about someone that was lost to death & the heartache and emptiness that accompany’s that loss until I got to the telephone part & changed my mind….I see despair and heartache of one who’s happiness relies on an illicit love, & is willing to settle for scraps of time this lover affords her. Her imagination takes her to heights she can only imagine but will never realize. It’s as if she were striving to catch the wind,knowing it would escape her but chasing it just the same. Leaving her destiny in the hands of another.
annmariedwyer
/ November 28, 2011I like your image of chasing the wind. Very interesting take on the poem, Anna. Thank you for stopping by to comment! <3 Red.
valentinelogar
/ November 28, 2011I will only tell you that it is beautifully done.
annmariedwyer
/ November 28, 2011My friend, methinks ye doth known mine too well. <3
Alexandra Heep
/ November 28, 2011My first reading: An affair with a married person
Second reading: Someone who died too soon
Personally, I do not get anything out of it for myself because of the prevalent use of the pronoun “I”.
I rarely say something about poetry because my opinions are … different and I do not mean to offed. But, I have moved you into the circle of those who deserve nothing but my best, and that mean honesty.
annmariedwyer
/ November 28, 2011Thank you, Alex. Your opinion will certainly not offend me, for it is coveted. I vacillate between poetry with and without “I”. Readers like “I” or hate “I”, but either way, some feeling is evoked. Thank you again for your honesty. Red.