Writing Prompt #130 “Collage 9″ and Photo Prompt OctPoWriMo

Collage 9

We never went to Paris

The French cafe around the corner

Was the closest we ever

Came to foreign skies.

For my birthday you bought me

A key chain of the Eiffel tower,

A promise more incredulous than a ring.

When one is in love everything

Is so poignant and precious.

A daydream is more real

Than the caricatures one favors

In their everyday life.

When one is in love greatness is possible.

A violin cradled may as well be a heart

For does it not contain the same sweet music?

How improbable our love, how immense.

I thought and still think that it will never end.

You left for reasons I cannot fathom.

I never knew shackles like these

When we were together, this loss so like banishment.

I thought we were more than this that our love

Above all others held a place in the heavens.

I hate you a little less each day.

Memories may fail when spoken

But they remain even in death.

When I find you missing my eyes well up.

I am the universe unfinished,

A fracture walled off and forgotten.

How can I entertain your cruelty

When I saw no inkling of it?

If only you had been, in some small way,

Then may be I could arrest my feelings.

For the sake of the other challenge I had to add an extra image which changed the direction of my poem.

feet-in-chains

Public Domain Pictures

OctPoWriMo

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16 responses to “Writing Prompt #130 “Collage 9″ and Photo Prompt OctPoWriMo

  1. This is so good in many ways, including sad–how true that being in love completely distorts our reality, eclipsed by dreams of everything impossible being ours to hold/own.

    • Thank you, it can indeed sometimes for the better, sometimes in giving us hope. I do not think I would be here today if not for love. Sometimes of course the illusions can be dangerous as well

  2. I like how you round this out, from the magic of the initial love to the grief and anger of separation…..this was a great collage to play with and I’m glad you are going to continue with them….

  3. A violin cradled may as well be a heart
    For does it not contain the same sweet music?

    Ohhh what lines you fashion in words that create images that astound and surprise and resound long after the last notes are played …

    Another exceptional poem Yves 🙂

  4. One can only imagine if the loss was premeditated or one of an unexpected illness or accident.

    I often felt that when my father died… that he took the easy way out of having to fulfill his responsibilities. But one cannot predict the future.
    We can however change how we react to it.

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