Stand there, he told me.
Look up, try not to move.
So I stood there
while he painted me in half-profile,
and looked at the sky
and tried not to move.
I tried to think of nothing,
but (you know how it is)
the thoughts come into your head.
So I looked at the sky and remembered.
Tears in my eyes?
No, it was just that the sky
was very bright that day, I remember.
I remember a lot of things.
Some of them I’d prefer not to.
A master of English once told me, a perfect writer never gives the reader too much; it's those words that are left unsaid that say everything. Now I know exactly what he meant. S :)
I liked this a lot till I came to the last line, (which could be rewritten?) - the style of which is suddenly formal and stuffy.
Quite a nice poem Paul, you are quite good at creating these atmospheres. It leaves a lot unsaid, and leaves it to our imaginations to figure out what the subtext is. Something emotional is going on out of view, but I don't think you have given us enough to guess what. And maybe that is how you want it left: more about the emotion itself rather than the cause. But for me this intimating something but not saying and no way to know, is a bit distracting, I think I am too curious for my own good. lol
it's hard to keep still...and it's hard to forget....poignant write....
Paul, one thing I have grown to expect from your creations, is your natural ability to create such wonderful imagery in your writes....your poems expand the mind.....keep penning my friend
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
interesting piece.................