she never thought
that I might know a
woman's way to
love in silence,
she never saw
me by a woman's
love, but paid for it
with my absence.
a woman's silence
can't be bought
and must be paid.
she taught me this-
the silence of
a woman's love, tension
recovered. how many I've
heard, remembering
what could not
be cheap or simple,
but love reflected
in the past tense,
days behind her
using her love
to solve and create
those memories,
withdrawn, shadowed
by a film, itself
projected to a screen,
filtered with silence.
this one never heard
her voice, used
speech in other ways,
by lapses, hoping
to have all of them
filled without asking,
pure that way, in
lack of control,
for what must be
asked can not be given,
what is offered
is stored, restored
and once lost
could be bought or
thought of again.
her silence
remains with me,
her words without
echoes, her presence
cut and recut
like a film, like shadow,
inflected by
the random construction
of her memory,
resonant somehow, together
her silence and mine,
reflected in her new past.
my future seems
to be the creation
of another one's memory,
one more reflection
never seen,
never felt, heard,
but in that way.
one more, a silent
one remembers me
and I feel her gaze,
her thoughts of me,
that were never
there, with me with her.
Jesse, this is superb, I love how you slice the sentences and stanzas just roll and roll onto and each each other. Perfect. The topic? Well you have it just right.... isn't it bizarre though that it's only when a bit of time and distance is put between you and subject can you write so objectively? Brilliant. HG: -) x
Jesse, this poem comes from a unique look...the 'Afterimage' is creative and really appeals. However, I got lost at the beginning with all the uses of the word 'silence' and wonder whether you might do your poem a favor by finding some other words. The ending builds nicely and your last stanza is superb. Raynette
Have enjoyed reading some of your poems. There is sensitivity in your writing giving unique insight into loves complexities from the male point of view. Well done!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The prism of review/assessing/accounting allows us insights and judgements whichwould be useful if they could be carried over, but too frequently they can't. This is a sustained, detailed, sensitive and revealing focussing that identifies specific truths, and presents them so gently, almost silently that they are easy to slip past. Clever, poetic and a rewarding read/repeated reread.