Thread: Lines

I follow white lines
on a tarmac ribbon
that stretches without destination.

Lights ahead dazzle my tired eyes.
Engine noise masks
the silence of my isolation.

Black and white disappear
and I find myself falling
through everything concrete.

I thought I knew where I was going
but nothing is solid
in this fabric of mist.

There are no lines
only blurred edge.

hello Shadows

to me S2 could be removed, I only say this because it steps outside the 'lines' you could just fuse it with S1 or at least the L4 of S2

what I mean is.

at the end of S1 add

into the silence of my isolation

I don't like messing with peoples words, so please feel free to ignore.

I took this as person driving, I had a trucker in mind, long highways of endless black, flashing white dashes, then how that combination of regularity blends into a blur, that destination and departure look the same with a void inbetween.

I enjoyed

Sync

Hi Shadows,

Love this read.

For me (including Sync's ever perceptive expansion of the imagery) this is about someone feeling a bit estranged as old norms disappear and the world appears ever more complex and confusing.

Many thanks,

Ian

Hi Sync

Thank you for critiquing this. For me the car headlights coming towards me and the hum of the engine both contribute to the weird/surreal feeling. I guess I did too much driving along motorways this week but I'll have a look at it again. A hard lesson not to be precious about one's words.

p.s. love the avatar, he is a cute little fella.

Hi Ian

Thank you for your comments and I like your interpretation and I'm happy you took that from the poem.

Maybe I'm the odd one out, but the first time through, I read more "pilot" and less "trucker." The mention of tarmac at the beginning for the runway, dazzling lights on the consoles, falling after a stall. It gave me a real sense of flying deaf (regarding radio) in the dead of a foggy night.

Hi ODaly

Thanks for reading. That's what I love about poetry, it's all about interpretation and the reader brings as much to a poem as the writer does.

I don't know how I missed this one, but I'm glad I found it now. Love this. For what it's worth, S2 is far too important to lose, but that's just my opinion. Although I can't put it into words, I'm lousy at conveying what I mean most of the time, I really, really get this. Thank you for sharing, it's nice to know someone sees things the way I do.

Best,
Lisa

Hi Lisa

Thanks very much for your thoughts. I'm usually crap at saying what I mean. It tends to come out as something else entirely and then I end up cursing myself for being misunderstood knowing it's my own fault for expressing it badly. Glad to know I'm not the only one.

Hi Shadows, this poem appeals to me again. I like your style. Your writing is simple but layered.

I look forward to reading more.

Love and a Merry Christmas,

Firebird

Thanks very much Firebird. Yes, there are often layers in my writing .

thanks for reading.

Ahh, I'm late to the party. Good spare lines that make each word that much stronger. Enjoyed, shadows.

I'm happy with late Gumby and appreciate the visit, thanks.