by Michele Schottelkorb
a wayward glance, a slight scowl
we commingle in this vague existence
rummaging for something more
as the razor blade cut digs deeper
when will the irrelevant chaos cease
does the teeter totter ever quit?
will the sun rise tomorrowor set infinitely on this abyss?
Posted on 10/26/2003
Copyright © 2020 Michele Schottelkorb
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 10/27/03 at 12:46 PM|
The seeming paradox and contrast of "irrelevant chaos" emphasizes the abysmal morass, the state of utter confusion. Striking!
|Posted by Max Bouillet on 10/28/03 at 07:21 PM|
Is there hope or is there not? You have placed control with the setting and rising of the sun... a step that removes you from the equation. I think sometimes we all need to raise or close the blinds ourselves. ----I have no idea what I just said! Great verse if it gets me thinking that much!
|Posted by Karl Waldbauer on 10/29/03 at 08:11 AM|
Never have I read such an accurate description of the decomposition of a relationship. Michele, your talent is amazing.
|Posted by Ashok Sharda on 10/30/03 at 02:41 AM|
Its too intense. The state of hopelessness. And the love and the faith gets scattered with the scattering of the hopes. In any case, no 'moods' are permanant in nature. And every event is so connected to the other that a bad event eventually can lead one to the good. Think of the worst event of your life and you will find that the subsequent best shall vanish if this worst is removed from your life.