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My World Flickers

I live in life's darkest shadows, Black and white, my inward mind, No rainbow colours, in this world, My nights flicker, like a cine film. The spinning reel , turns my world, My soul lost and found in dream. The dream is not a dream but real, As my heart flickers about a wheel. Time shies from life's inward gaze, The curtain falls, about my mind, Life's Varied truth, a wayward maze Serenity restored in black and white. The flickering heart, it skips a beat, Your world does not belong to me. As I embrace forgotten pasts, The wheel keeps spinning in my eyes . Project my stolen eyes, living in solitude On screens where thoughts are tuned Where the past, in dreams were born, A place of gratitude, a heart, born to die. Through the lens I live and breathe To those who graced the screen, "Your world, you can keep outside ." As my world flickers, about a wheel .

Copyright © | Year Posted 2024




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Date: 3/11/2024 9:40:00 PM
Hi Daniel, A further reflection on this: "I've always felt I belonged in another world, not this one; that's where I find peace." Being in the present moment helps me find peace by "not allowing the sound of my own wheels drive me crazy." Imagination is a gift, lifting us into other worlds. Your poems do that for you and your readers. Take care.
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Daniel Caplin
Date: 3/12/2024 1:32:00 AM
Good Morning Donald , writing helps distract me from the real world , a traumatic childhood perhaps helps me escape the now , but I don't knowingly revisit the past , when I write I sometimes walk in others shoes like " No Shame in Love " and the tragic life of Tchaikovsky, words appear like turning on a tap , it's like I'm not writing them . I can't explain it but I'm sure many other writers are the same . Daniel
Date: 3/11/2024 9:03:00 AM
Sorry, I meant Daniel.
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Date: 3/11/2024 6:57:00 AM
Hi David, Thank you for the reply. Regarding reality, what's that? Literature is a great teacher. Modernism freed itself from traditional forms and narratives, emphasizing fragmentation, and the exploration of inner consciousness. Postmodernism went further by questioning the very nature of reality. It is marked by irony, playfulness, and a skepticism towards grand narratives and objective truths. To which "family" does your poem belong?
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Daniel Caplin
Date: 3/11/2024 7:25:00 AM
Hi Donald , is it possible to be or exist within both ? My world is a fragmented one , I question everything , I live very much within my own head , emotion and passion drives in everything I do and say , I'm not sure that answers your question . I've always felt I belonged in another world , not this one , that's where I find peace .
Date: 3/11/2024 6:28:00 AM
Your poem speaks to the solitude in our existential experience. It reflects a person who perceives and experiences life differently from others. Finally, your poem expresses the turmoil and peace in embracing (giving into) one's uniqueness, even when it leads to isolation or a sense of being out of step in life. The cinematic imagery underscores life's short-lived nature and our continuous search for meaning and connection amidst solitude. Meditation does this very thing for me
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Daniel Caplin
Date: 3/11/2024 6:40:00 AM
Good Morning Donald , of course you are absolutely correct , I didn't realise others may have seen or pinpointed my writing with such accuracy , I do believe sometimes I exist outside of other peoples reality , but in solitude I do find solace in the past , and yes I do life a solitary type of existence , many thanks for your message it's much appreciated . Daniel
Date: 3/5/2024 5:08:00 AM
wow, you continue to amaze me Daniel. This is a superbly written poem starting with the title. These lines spoke to me: "The flickering heart, it skips a beat, Your world does not belong to me. As I embrace forgotten pasts, The wheel keeps spinning in my eyes." I must admit, my world flickers sometimes too. Have a pleasant day, Sara
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Daniel Caplin
Date: 3/5/2024 12:27:00 PM
Hello Sara , your comments as always inspire me to continue writing , I only started writing again about 2 weeks ago after a long break from writing , so your words are as important to me as the words I write . As always thank you , your Irish friend .

Book: Reflection on the Important Things