Little Miss Homo Sapien's Cave

Footprints

With all my heavy heart,
I feel light.
I can almost hear angels
weeping
in the silence
of That’s Life.
The night sky has
always been like
what it is: calm
and treacherous,
like the sudden surge
of electricity on
my fingertips after
a long power outtage.
I try my best
to make sense
of the senseless,
of mindlessness
in the realm of what
is understood to be
my rationale.
But tomorrow is
another day and
I have to die again
from what I did not even
get to live through.

To face the unknown
together with
their hands clasped
is all I want to think
of right now.
But the calmness
and treachery
dwell here
inside my skin
and their skins:
them criminals,
who are away
going, going
then gone, and
footprints are all but
they’ll leave behind.

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11 responses

  1. Kristin Brænne

    ★★★★★

    27/04/2011 at 23:30

  2. mochafrappe

    The footprints left will eventually be a part of you..

    I really like your writing *clap! clap!* 🙂

    28/04/2011 at 09:54

  3. liza

    done impeccably. you conveyed it through words in a way that leaves a bittersweet aftertaste.

    28/04/2011 at 12:56

  4. “But tomorrow is
    another day and
    I have to die again
    from what I did not even
    get to live through.”

    *sniff*

    28/04/2011 at 18:39

    • Sniff, yes. 😦

      Thanks for reading, Jensen.

      29/04/2011 at 00:35

      • I will always be reading. At least that’s one thing you can count on. 😉

        Oh… and…

        “To face the unknown
        together with
        their hands clasped
        is all I want to think
        of right now.”

        That’s like driving a dagger through your own heart. Ouch. 😦

        29/04/2011 at 21:08

  5. Like Jensenrosario I was struck by the same quotations. “But tomorrow…” For me it was really arresting. Made me wonder if you did want to ‘stop’ your reader at that point – force a period of reflection on what you’ve said before going on? (Just a thought) When you did take me on, I love the first part of the final verse(?) “To face the unknown…” I’m really interested in your decision not to place yourself in the image (“their hands clasped” – not ‘our hands’ or ‘my hands’ and curious that the criminals leave nothing behind, not tears, not devastation, not recriminations…. Really thought provoking Little Miss!

    24/05/2011 at 00:00

    • Poetry for me is always the hardest to explain, because they are not supposed to be explained. Poetry is supposed to be open to different interpretations.

      Although I’d have to say that this piece isn’t about a person leaving me for another; it’s about the murder of two people (who were acquaintances of mine) in love with each other.

      24/05/2011 at 20:49

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