Cinnamon railway to nothingness.
-
The hum of the silent rail
brings me back slowly
to all those eloquent Sunday morns,
when you would hum
making a sum of,
the dust bunnies in your white house.
The ink that flows around me
blankets my eyes;
soothing them from harshness.
Do you ever see-
The blip that I was,
in your two decades of breathing?
I see the dark tracks ahead,
forboding as a black sun,
yet the void draws me in
like a Siren's call..
Be it a song or a cry,
I must answer
or my life be moot.
Oh sooth, must it be a Sandman?
Piercing through my heart
from a cinnamon bow of an Amazon.
Truly she is wondrous,
but men die loving her.
If that fate be mine,
let my ascendancy be blessed,
and my entry fleet of foot.
For I gazed upon you last
when all things came to past. -
Originally posted by LazerLordz:
The hum of the silent rail
brings me back slowly
to all those eloquent Sunday morns,
when you would hum
making a sum of,
the dust bunnies in your white house.
The word 'hum' give me the impression of chanting in this poem. Very Zen-like. Is the author on a train or is he walking along the railway track?
The ink that flows around me
blankets my eyes;
soothing them from harshness.
Do you ever see-
The blip that I was,
in your two decades of breathing?
Most of the time, we do not realize that the people who love us the most are usually those around us. Here the author seems to be in a daze. And 'two decades', so she is twenty years old.
I see the dark tracks ahead,
forboding as a black sun,
yet the void draws me in
like a Siren's call..
Be it a song or a cry,
I must answer
or my life be moot.
The dreadful Siren's call that lured young unwary sailors to their death. Is the author comparing himself as a wandering sailor? Although he knows that he is heading towards certain death, yet he cannot control his emotions. That is his destiny.
Oh sooth, must it be a Sandman?
Piercing through my heart
from a cinnamon bow of an Amazon.
Truly she is wondrous,
but men die loving her.
Cinnamon, a aromatic spice from bark of SE Asian tree. Amazon, wild, fierce & strong warriors. Deadly combination. But who exactly fire the arrow that pierces through the author's heart? The Sandman? But why not Cupid?
If that fate be mine,
let my ascendancy be blessed,
and my entry fleet of foot.
For I gazed upon you last
when all things came to past.
Could it be his love for her is so strong that he is even willing to die for her?
Will all these love come to nothing as suggeted by the title of the poem? Hmm... -
Man..you're analysis is getting better and better.You seem to hit my center quite often.
-
Actually the person who knows best is the poet himself/herself. Readers can only guess what message he/she is trying to convey via his/her poems.Originally posted by LazerLordz:Man..you're analysis is getting better and better.You seem to hit my center quite often.
Something readers may also be totally out of point, for example I thought you are praising a statue in 'My Not So Irish Girl'. Heehee.