the head lolls forward onto the chest
the slowing breathing, lifting breast
the candle flickers by the words
yet unfinished, yet unheard
the smoke reads stories
tales of heroes and villains
tales of the life given
and a dancing figure emerges
clad in swirling gray
and spins, and steps and sways
in time to the uncomposed soundtrack
to a film as of yet, unmade
that will, of course, forget half the words
and distort half the story
but the music compelling
the story, always unending
gives cause for the smoke to dance
trapped and amazed by a single glance
at words on paper, freshly writ
scribbled in ungainly script.
And the light winks at the twirling smoke
sharing a secret of a writers hope
that one day the words unheard
will be spoken from this side to the other of earth
that the names of characters unknown
of paupers become kings on golden throne
will be more lasting than any one mans
and so, in the sleeping blackness, the smoke will dance.

One thought on “

  1. Absolutely AWESOME! I love so many lines in the poem … here are some of my favorite:“the smoke reads stories”“of paupers become kings on golden thronewill be more lasting than any one mansand so, in the sleeping blackness, the smoke will dance”GREAT WORK and thanks for sharing.

Leave a Comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.