Sunday, August 12, 2012

Magpie Tales 130: Illusion




conch


you were my 
desire. 

breaking free was 
your dilemma, but
one without a spirit
of deed, like a shell
in the sand.

"hold it to your ear," 
they say, "and you'll 
hear the ocean," and 

motherofpearl I did - 
felt your breath, 
tasted sea foam and
salt, swept along a 
rip-tide of cresting
waves that whetted
paradise and 
skin, 

striking echoes of 
hollow illusion and
emptiness. 





Poem © 2012 R. Burnett Baker 
Photo by Francesca Woodman, shared by Tess Kincaid.



9 comments:

  1. that whetted
    paradise and
    skin,

    Just a beautiful response to this image!

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  2. nice...you bring a nice intimacy to putting that shell to ones ear...

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  3. Oh my, your ending pretty much fits, life again and again sometimes doesn't it! I am so impressed with your header photo, gee that is something cool to bring words to paper. Stunning!

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  4. Your opening lines caught my attention...like the sounds of listening to it...including the echoes of emptiness ~

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  5. Motherofpearl! This is beautiful and bittersweet...

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  6. you made a beautiful poem out of that image

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  7. Iridescent and oh so senuous, Rick. Thank you for sharing.

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  8. Stirring memories of haunting seashell sounds evoked by this.

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