Not every day,
But in the slick-sweat stickiness of this moment
Or that.
You dare to peek in the keyhole
Of Pandora's black box
And as with an accident causing disruption on the road
It is an effort to pull your eyes away
From the disaster inside.
The mind plays with architecture:
Bridge the gap,
Building walls,
A door closing.
I stand in the doorway
While my foundation shudders around me.
I don't know where I should stand.
And after this moment...
What then? Where do I build?
I think there are way to many Pandora's boxes... on the other hand, where would we be without that curiosity... I really love how you bridged the stanzas together (and the image of your background created a very good symbiosis)
ReplyDelete"I don't know where I should stand." Irreconcilable - exactly how it felt for me. Love the architecture references. Really enjoyed this.
ReplyDeleteYes, once you confront the mess, it's hard to sink back into denial.
ReplyDeleteVery nice.. like the metaphors in the second stanza that mirror the conflict in the mind.
ReplyDeleteLet's try it without the typo:
ReplyDeleteTo be reborn, something has to pass away. Bombs away, I say.
'The mind plays with the architecture' all too often, ll too true--the externals are so much easier to think about--very evocative glimpse of the life interior. (I find this popular template very difficult to deal with visually, and the poems people post on it in white text almost impossible to read against the background image, however, so a lot is lost for me. Sorry.)
ReplyDelete"I don't know where I should stand," was my favorite line. Is floating an option instead? I feel like floating would be nice.
ReplyDeleteYou convey a sense of trepidation most profoundly in this first person narrative.
ReplyDelete