WAITING ROOM

wait in the heart of hearts
this atrium of light and old smells
a coffee cup in hand from the store
brimmed with hot brew

and emotions have cooled
the direction of prevalance
has walked away

your footsteps fading
on the marble
black and white
the squares like a kind grid

the empty fireplace mantle
the tables huddled near the
french doors

the dark green woods that
edge the ravine
and light falling from
morning
bright and painful

Once we walked to each
other Smiles then
stitched with the seam
of happiness

cauterized wound
crackling with itch
every time I tossed
I heard your name

every step I took
was a dream
of joy breaking
like darkness
the ripe plump sleeve
of stars gripping
the ebony page

Where do I look
sitting here alone
this chair firm
beneath me
this cup leaking
faulted at the fold

There is no making
happiness through
all thats left undone
that gathered grit
that bites the taste
remains
like pigments

and we bleed
entrenched

circling still like Ospreys
hungry for the evening
catch
we shall fold our
sharp detail shadows
when this echo
clears

and dive into what
future eats

— Esker, Jul 11, 2010

About This Poem

About the Author

Region, Country: north ontario, CAN

Favorite Poets: Klo , .., Ida, .., Rhiannon1010, .., Pleiades, .., Valryianne, .., Ester, .., Stephanie, .., Emina Smajevic, ..., Elefentee, ..., Sommer Lyn, ..., Jasmine, ..., Rula, ...

Critiques

Esker

15 years 11 months ago

blue poetry

so it goes writing obscure writing the beastly vulgar bugle calls spitting neon thrashing wave and the simple opus of waiting... I have read Pauls works on this his New York city the love examined so human nature is rich ingredient Pleaides odes to fondness Whiteteas sparce embellish entrancements and you the rest whom I adore much more but I sit gathering sunlight in this thought of emptiness the expanse of silence of space bereft of emotion feeling flat wounded but better its taken this long to write the filligree works to the more personal I have all of you here to thank Entertainingly Yours Esker~

Kailashana

15 years 11 months ago

ABSOLUTELY FUCKING BRILLIANT

ABSOLUTELY FUCKING BRILLIANT POEM! Yes, I shout this from the mountain, the rooftop and stars! Personal. Poetry is only words, sometimes beautifully woven, until it is embodied, then it cooks, sings, slices, dances, reborn in everlasting words that fill the hungry heart, the far lands of mind and the humming soul even as it empties into a placid lake. ~A "There is a kind of mysticism to writing." ~ Irvine Welsh

raskin

15 years 11 months ago

Your poetry is filigree,

Your poetry is filigree, words that are like iron twisting and turning and I enjoy the sight of them. I savor your poems images, they are like a rich tapestry hanging against a wall and in my mind I see them. Waiting, I see Mr Esker such brilliant images flow. raskin

KingINwaiting

15 years 11 months ago

I love your perspective. Its

I love your perspective. Its like a new universe of detail being shed. I loved it. Great work

Orphani

15 years 11 months ago

As one who appreciates your

As one who appreciates your work by the evocative, original, and introspective nature, and quality of your metaphor to infuse, and impose by theme, the precise imagery into a deeply personal and sensitive creation of poetic beauty, and the human experience; congratulations on this fine piece. Don't let it go to your head however as I feel it contains some weaknesses. One of which for me was the last two stanzas that I feel should have been omitted, although Anna disagrees with that. I, without the right to conjecture this; would also suggest you discover the rest of the world you have narrowed yourself from, and there by give us a wider variety of topic. A selfish request I grant you as you explore the soul of Stephen, and allowed us to participate. B

Esker

15 years 11 months ago

B

last line spoilers I know that I have stuck to leaving the last lines the osprey tucking in its wings and then falling to eat dinner diving to the water for its fish writing from the air to the water that breaking transition its like diving cliff jumping people who swim competively and for sun dock days I just never want to leave its so hard and Yes it would be left better with dropping those last lines and leaving the reader pondering its like the closing down the wagon and hitching up the magic show for the next town circa 1880's I have narrowed down the focus on this beam for some time now as you have noticed its like painting the same subject matter over and over and Im glad you ask because I am well aware that there are other venues to travel down Poetry is such a discipline in itself as Orgami I did tend to let things go to my head but am working as Esker now to be more humble ultimately this craft this gift is not mine but given of course in that context so sharing on this non for profit site is mychosen place for this kind of work I have taken all this in thought and will greatly keep it in the forefront Thank You Esker~

Kailashana

15 years 11 months ago

A humble poet? Are you in

A humble poet? Are you in the right universe? The heart is humble when one lives it, a poet should never be, needn't be and can not be. Else their poetry suffers from not being written. Hence the roses are red, violets are blue poems being written on this site and given accolades and rising to the status of spotlight while others like yours end falling short because folks reading don't vote. Sorry if I am using this opportunity to make a political issue, but what the hell, I thought this was a poetry workshop with a two pronged approach: praise and criticism. Praise for improving poetry and honest criticism for what may still be lacking or begging for improvement. Barry's comment included both and I thank you both for being all that you can be, without resorting to verbal fisticuffs. Esker, you know there is gold & magic in the muse that will be coming around the mountain when she comes. ~A "There is a kind of mysticism to writing." ~ Irvine Welsh

Electric Blue

15 years 11 months ago

Waiting Room

Esker Wow - So moved am I with this write. Set my mind to wonder far and wide inside and outside the body mind and spirit. Invisible walls my waiting room I seem to spend a long time there. In my heart of hearts the atrium lights sometimes appears that is so blinding I hear footsteps on wooden floors coming to my door rather then marble floors The dark green woods that edge the ravine and light falling from morning bright - but painful I am there and see and feel this Once we walked to each other smiles stitched the seams of happiness - I have been there Every step I take is a dream, the joy braking the darkness But here I sit alone in the arm chair looking out of these invisible walls but I sit gathering the sunlight in this thought of emptiness in this expance of silence of space bereft of emotions am I Esker - I feel we share the same space not at the same time but I know this place well Your writing astounds me so you write with raw emotions where many are to afraid to go wonderful my friend you speak for so many Electric Blue

Esker

15 years 11 months ago

walk along

there are smooth reveries and dead dull moments when nothing jumps as life journeys are meant to reflect inwardly as much as outwardly all the intimate attire we carry like seasons in their glyphs and motifs enjoy reading your comments Electricblue a poets heart you have thank you~