Tangled

Like marionettes fixed expressions once carved in virgin wood always to smile or frown... or a "Mona Lisa" grin always to be wondered upon. Have our strings grown from a simple few to too many, always tangled with another; tripping on thoughts and steps that once came more simply. What of love, when all must magically work together? When we fell in its quest did we wish to be cut free or lifted and untangled so we may stay or walk away once more whole? (Inspired by Stephanie Deshpande's painting "Extrication")

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Maria Williams

Date: 2/3/2020 8:42:00 PM

Always a fan of your poems of depth Craig. This one gives much to ponder on. A fave for me. I have missed seeing you on FB...Maria Hugs

Andrea Dietrich

Date: 2/2/2020 11:50:00 AM

Thought provoking and well expressed, Craig. Things have gotten so complex. I blame half of it on technology. The other day in library. Teen boys were so loud. Librarian gave them a "warning" such a joke. They just kept on as if nobody mattered. I had to be there to use internet. Dont have it right now. These text comments are killing me.

Craig Cornish
Date: 2/2/2020 12:14:00 PM

It used to be one of the sane places to go but much has changed

Susan Woodrow

Date: 1/31/2020 10:50:00 AM

love this Craig..the title esp. made me think it is the most appropriate end result of love - a tangled mess that one can never unravel unless the lovers themselves learn to just give without expectations..such an improbability :)

Craig Cornish
Date: 1/31/2020 11:48:00 AM

Hugs Susan, and your statement about expectations is so darn true because giving should never be attached to anything for it truly to be "giving" with love or anything for that matter. Though we do live with some simple expectations like a thank you or a wave for letting someone in in traffic and that is certainly magnified in love...yet, how do we know where anyone "Is" at a moment in time - hence improbability!