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Ambles Past
by Matthew Zangen"I love you," darling, don't look down;
it's only written on the snowy ground.
It's just a promise for your aching feet,
a little wager for your legs to keep.
Lift your chin up off the dusty floor,
you have to look at what you're looking for,
and don't you talk behind the mirror's back,
because we both see what the mirror lacks.
It's a pattern for your blood to beat;
a reason for our eyes to meet;
some great thought to tie your fingers 'round,
to remind you what your arms had found.
You have a strength that burns beneath your skin,
and I beseech the day you'll let me in.
I will walk atop a plane of glass
until you read those words from ambles past. 12/20/2007 Posted on 12/20/2007
Copyright © 2024 Matthew Zangen
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Michelle Angelini on 12/20/07 at 09:24 PM Matthew, I'm not usually one who reads rhyming poetry, but you've done a wonderful job here of using both exact and slant rhyme. In addition, the plea for love opens the door to someone responding. The emotion is subtle but very evident. The images in each stanza are excellent.
~Chelle~ |
| Posted by Nicole Assenza on 12/21/07 at 07:52 AM "It's a pattern for your blood to beat;
a reason for our eyes to meet;
some great thought to tie your fingers 'round,
to remind you what your arms had found."
Your poems lately, have an energy and sublimity that make me believe if real life were this beautiful, I would have to believe in God. I think the rhythm here is more urgent than a leisurely amble-- although that may must be my earnest reading and re-reading. It's such an honest, open work that without even understanding every nuance, the overall romantic feeling envelopes the reader. You're such a careful writer, and I appreciate how everything is just so and not at all thrown together.
"You have a strength that burns beneath your skin,
and I beseech the day you'll let me in.
I will walk atop a plane of glass
until you read those words from ambles past."
This last stanza I can't get out of my head, it's enigma is simply beautiful. But it isn't something to decode-- it just is, and it's lovely. Thank you Matt, for another delicious poem.
Be the Ted Hughes to my Sylvia Plath. <33 |
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