Now You See Me. No, You Don'T! Poem by Dianna Drinkard
Now You See Me. No, You Don'T!
Think that you may know my face
by the image up above?
Feel my soul's radiant grace
from this electronic cove? Those eyes reveal no window
through which this virtual notch
will image you my shadow
nor grant you my living watch. We have but words and voices
to share our moribund thoughts.
Gestures that bind our choices
to responses they begot. Hope you to "read" this poet?
Not while you dwell on the earth.
Images never show It;
nor give realities birth. We can't hope to know ourselves
through vanities involved
in demonstrating our wealths
of ego unresolved. The angels gave their breast bone
to cross crutches on this dove
then help'd it limp toward heaven
in quest for eternal love.
.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/3/2024 12:17:58 PM # 1.0.0.1119
A voice from the distant past is calling your name A voice of young love lost and forgotten A voice screaming we're going to crash A voice saying oh my god we're on a VW Bug A voice from a security guard saying who's your parents A voice from a mother saying your never going to see that boy again A voice from a father saying how could you let that girl drive your car A voice silenced and forced to move on with life. A voice with a story of first love lost. 1979 I'm not much of a poet, but do you remember a night like that? If you don't, then you're not the Dianna Drinkard I knew or the one that knew Scott Freshner and his 1968 Chevelle Malibu. If this is you, HOW ARE YOU DOING! ! ! ! ! ! A friend of mine writes poetry and had me look up one of them. I saw this name from the past and left a comment at your poem. It's been a few months. You must have never read it or Ignored it, which I would understand if you don't want to contact me. But if you would like to chat, I'll be looking forward to your email. Scott Freshner