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JoelJosol

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The dinner is cold,

a seat remains vacant.

 

I wait like a wife

for a knock

 

on the door

of my thoughts.

 

Perhaps, tonight,

like a husband

 

words will come,

to spill like seeds.

"Words are not things, and yet they are not non-things either." - Ann Lauterbach

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JoelJosol wrote:

 

like a husband

 

words will come,

and spill like seeds.

 

what a great reference this is... it caused me to wonder, "So, is this called Poetic Husbandry?"

 

I really like what there is to look at in this succinct piece... nice gift Joel...

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This seems like a metaphor for those times in our lives when the inspiration and the words just won't come; we anxiously wait and hope that they will come home to us. You have presented such a thought and feeling very well.

 

Thank you for this picture,

 

rg

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JoelJosol wrote:

 

The dinner is cold,

a seat remains vacant.

 

I wait ...

for a knock

 

on the door

of my thoughts.

 

A poem that shows a multiple insight, on things that happem to us...as poets or just plain humans. I enjoyed the whole, but the excerpt above is the crux for me.

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Perhaps, tonight,

like a husband

 

words will come

and spill like seeds.

 

Another brilliant piece- simple like a flower as PIL used to say, which is a very complicated thing;-) The above is my favorite, you upped the ante on the first 'feminine' metaphor perfectly capturing the non-dual moment by bringing the opposites together as the subtle complimentaries they are.

 

Well, well done- I think its about time to publish, besides on a forum;-)

 

DC

Gate(less.thumb.png.dc23b19d2478d37a9f6fcdc563973026.pnghttps://conjurd.substack.com/welcome Come on over and check out my poetry substack y'all;-)

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@ rumisong, you made me laugh!

 

@ rhymeguy, precisely the sentiment. Thanks.

 

@ waxwings, thanks too.

 

@DC, am contented with keeping this aging mind active :-) Thanks.

"Words are not things, and yet they are not non-things either." - Ann Lauterbach

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  • 3 weeks later...
The dinner is cold,

a seat remains vacant.

 

I wait like a wife

for a knock

 

on the door

of my thoughts.

 

Perhaps, tonight,

like a husband

 

words will come,

to spill like seeds.

 

 

Hello Joel. I really missed many brilliant poems around the board, so I am trying to catch many of them. I am amazed what a wonderful work I read by you all.

This is original poem, very metaphorical and it works perfectly. I enjoyed much reading this very playful poem.

 

Aleksandra

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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