Black Reflections
Upon each other,
Smiled in doorways
On the five o'clock train,
Face of the stricken
Living death,
Silent and grim
As the ghetto jew.
It is enough that years
Like a train
Passed unnoticed
Whitened beneath the slanting snow,
But silence marched
In darkened hallways,
Black numerals of the clock
Blotted out a world.
Nicely written. 😊
thanks, athena
the perfect picture of the invisible and unwanted.....sad.
that's beautiful - very poetic - couldn't have said it better
Very sad. Soul crushing loneliness
thank you, @timmo3663 - a very apt description - truly black reflections
The essence of desolation.... you have captured it well here.
thank you, Tina - appreciate that
Nice picture and nice poetry too
thanks
When I read this...
I got the feeling it was like a conversation between two gods, and how they messed up during the holocaust.
that's a unique perspective on the poem, @aldentan
Thanks haha.
A Suicide Note?
I never thought of that- an interesting interpretation. Writers don't always see all the implications of their work
omg wow... torpidly vivid...fantastic
LOL, torpid means the opposite of vivid you're saying the poem is dead :)
Oh no...while the content is torpid the poem is vivid...the is alive as it gets. ...I could have said "awesomely ugly" or some like that. . like when your add sweet to the coffee to have a balance taste. A perfect taste... Your poem is actually perfect... You mixed two opposite things and added a new balance ... in the universe... Beauty excels when 2 opposite poles form... a planet. . " a train passes unnoticed while people are living....a quiet grim Jew in the noisy ghetto... That's genial :))
Ah, I see. Well, thank you, @kingyus, for your remarkable use of oxymorons. I appreciate the response :)
:)