Your fingers still grasp the mug.

by Poet on the Piano   Jul 13, 2013


I'm not sure what to think
when I appear at your kitchen door,
as apples and peaches embrace
near the windowsill and it's
already hours after the sun's
ray have moved you.

You've already woken up,
but why have you kept wiping
your eyes, cementing your feet
on unswept tiles, and wanting
to choke your very breath?

So young and wanting to
no longer call a sedentary day
your whole week,
but slowly, it's becoming what
you are accustomed to.
And you dangle from book spines
in the middle of the afternoon,
how deeply you could sink into
long grass, how your skin would
smile and not burn the slightest.

But there's no energy.
All the things flickering past your
thoughts don't hold you back,
you do.

Truly though, what do we know?
How can we know what we want
when we barely create a spark
and start throwing our hands up
to prevent the flames.

And I retreat to the porch
as you vanish from my sight,
your hands dull while they
cling to a mug I saw empty
of will.

I suddenly know, without any
sort of reflection,
that I am you,
living among an emotion

untitled.

-
Written 7/12/13 @ 10:23 PM

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Latest Comments

  • 11 years ago

    by BlueJay

    Oh my, this piece is honestly so stunning, the descriptions are beyond perfect. The heart and soul ooze from every word, every letter, every space, and everything in between so effortlessly.

    Whoa, I have sat staring at this page for 10 minutes if not more, simply thinking of an adequate way to comment and do this piece any justice at all.

    Your flow is silk. The personality and originality of the piece are undeniably unique in the most beautiful way possible. There is not a singke thing about this piece that did not make me stop and whisper to myself , "whoa" or "oh my god, that's genius! "

    5/5 and being added to my favorite poems list.

  • 11 years ago

    by Tara Kay

    I am just speechless, this...is....just....WOW!

    I cannot even comprehend the emotion I felt in this piece, it's just gently accustomed into the write, you know, added with such elegance.

    The first few stanza's I was partial to, they were pretty solid and set the scene and the emotion was flawless in its flow...and then...

    But there's no energy.
    All the things flickering past your
    thoughts don't hold you back,
    you do.

    ^^This is soooo true, we hold ourselves back, nothing else, not the thoughts or other people, the world and its ways don't stop us, we do...that is amazing....so nicely penned as well.

    And I retreat to the porch
    as you vanish from my sight,
    your hands dull while they
    cling to a mug I saw empty
    of will.

    ^^I often sit, holding the empty mug after a coffee, I ponder on the thoughts every morning, and sometimes, when the day before has been tough or I haven't slept, I just don't want to move, I just want to stay, lifeless with the mug in hand.

    I suddenly know, without any
    sort of reflection,
    that I am you,
    living among an emotion

    untitled.

    ^^^THIS ENDING!! OMG That's powerful, a statement of itself, just so perfect to end the poem with. I feel that you now know that the reflection was you, and you are yourself to choose your future, the destiny that is waiting is only yours to touch.

    Beautiful write, amazing imagery and emotion and as always MA, the flow is flawless
    xxx

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