The Composition of Shadows (I)
'I made it out of a mouthful of air.'—W. B. Yeats
We breathe and so we write; the night
hums softly its accompaniment.
Pale phosphors burn; the page we turn
leads onward, and we smile, content.
And what we mean we write to learn:
the vowels of love, the consonants'
strange golden weight, each plosive's shape—
curved like the heart. Here, resonant, ...
sounds' shadows mass beneath bright glass
like singing voles curled in a maze
of blank white space. We touch a face—
long-frozen words trapped in a glaze
that insulates our hearts. Nowhere
can love be found. Just shrieking air.
Published by The Lyric, Candelabrum, Iambs & Trochees, Triplopia, Romantics Quarterly, Hidden Treasures, Yellow Bat Review, Poetry Life & Times, Vallance Review, Poetica Victorian, ImageNation (United Kingdom)
The Composition of Shadows (II)
by Michael R. Burch
We breathe and so we write;
the night
hums softly its accompaniment.
Pale phosphors burn;
the page we turn
leads onward, and we smile, content.
And what we mean
we write to learn:
the vowels of love, the consonants'
strange golden weight,
the blood's debate
within the heart. Here, resonant,
sounds' shadows mass
against bright glass,
within the white Labyrinthian maze.
Through simple grace,
I touch your face,
(ah words!) And I would gaze
the night's dark length
in waning strength
to find the words to feel
such light again.
O, for a pen
to spell love so ethereal.
Keywords/Tags: composition, write, writing, poetry, poem, night, pen, pencil, computer, monitor, love, alienation, lonely, loneliness
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Out of the shadows love reveals itself. An excellent write with great imagination and imagery. A poetic delight.
Thanks, I'm glad you like it. I believe Yeats stole the quote from Sappho. She's one of my favorite poets and I've translated a number of her poems. Here's the one I think Yeats may have " borrowed" : Sapphic inscription on a long-stemmed cup in an Athens museum Mere air, my words' fare, but intoxicating to hear. —loose translation by Michael R. Burch