A Story

There is a hidden story here,
 wordings in the lines of a book that openly appear
   well-worn images cleared 
along paths and byways out of stagnation,
 birth life experiences out of the shadows of creation
marked by words and phrases, filled within blank spaces
  holding time in all its places, 
imaginings real and vague, 
 too easily erased by respite, consternation, aged oasis.

The word streams up and down the page gathered together 
  in paragraphs and sentences, uneasily phrased
chapters to be told but never quite heard,
 lives lived sad and happy within the written word,
addressing all the hows and whys 
 the wherefores brave and bold
  life once delicate, innocent, foolish with intent, pure and pristine
held silent by images of unimaginable aging in the unforeseen.

A mistake taken and made quickened faulty steps
  out of shadows, dark consuming, mesmerizing desires inept,
companions, friends, partners , dreamers, schemers, and lovers
 searching for the futures waiting to be discovered,
paying tokens, worship of ancestral icons, 
 love's fool hearty titans, sublime and divine
to the body electric,  solemn, serious, serene,
  pleasurable by design.

Solemn prayers  vocalized by the heart
  beating in unison panicked when distant or apart
relaying the story of where love ends and where it starts,
 blended, bonded, separated by passion, the moment on display played
unawares and barely assured of how long the magic alures.
  or could have stayed lingering thought in the want and need 
 of where it once was made, all finely focused on life's grand parade.
 
The story is often sad but true
  lovers, unfortunate in youth, emotional fools without a clue
knowing that all hope and dreams are learned better out of school
  that truth, deception, and lie  form both pleasure and sin 
walling up the mind and soul from down deep within,
  the story rolls out in a plot of twists and turns
and all,  in the end, get burned.

Here the story, silently it may lay
  placed hidden on a dusty shelf well-worn and  frayed
unopened, unheard, and yet retold
  so like the stories generations old,
over and over again by companions, family, relatives,
  the lovers and the friends.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2021

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace