December 30, 2011

It was a Tuesday,
when we tried
to dive back into dreams
we’d left behind
like burnt out matches

That day we ran out
of the fire we needed
to burn all our notes –
a frail attempt, a step,
to start again;

you see –

the fire wouldn’t take!
our words
were made of steel
and in the north wind hour
when we woke
(to whispers of the dawn)
there was no burning,
only frozen laughter


10 Responses to “Untitled”

  1. claudia said

    nice..i like it much anton..it has this for you so typical detached, analytical feeling with all the lava running just a hand under the surface..and the reader feels and almost sees the emotion…nice..

  2. Good write. Given the time of year, thought this was apt,
    to burn all our notes –
    a frail attempt, a step,
    to start again;

    Yeah, liked.

  3. Mohana said

    I loved your words…

  4. Emma said

    words of steel- yes once their out there they can’t be burnt away no matter how much we would like them to be…leaving behind that frozen laughter…I’m chilled…love the marriage of intimacy and distance that I encounter in your poetry…

  5. this is hazy and dreamlike yet so very vivid and bold. I love your style! You have a new fan! I am following!


  6. Pat Hatt said

    Frozen laughter brings forth lots of images, great line. Maybe the laughter is so good it’s like the moment froze or maybe it’s in the past.

  7. tashtoo said

    Freezer burn! The imagery, the words, the sense of hopelessness. Trying to get back to what once was, only to be met with school yard ghosts of dreams long gone…(mind you…my mood could be wrecking havoc with my interpretation!)

  8. Shawna said

    I love this, although it is heartbreakingly sad.

    That opening stanza is killer.


  9. anton said

    Thank you for the kind words everyone!

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