Splitted Poem by Galina Italyanskaya


Rating: 4.3

The world around me has vanished, lost in the night
All things and thoughts seem fallen in some black hole
The wires are ruptured, the sky is flashing with light
Or, maybe, it's the result of my last default

And since the dark has taken me by surprise
I've lit a candle, remained of Christmas Eve
Its gentle flame is dancing before my eyes
Obedient to your whisper, my true belief

I pour out my soul onto the sheet
I write a letter to someone who's drawn a sword
And looking over my shoulder you try to read
But obviously understand not a single word

I hear you saying again: I should not give up
Oh, can you recall the time when you were betrayed?
I wonder if ever you saw me draining your cup
And bearing that very cross to the top one day

Let poetry be my last escape from the blues
I heard about its healing creative force
The way rough diamonds turn into precious jewels
It facets our feelings and secret thoughts

My pen is running along and filling the page
The flame is dancing, and slowly drop by drop
The melted wax is running over the edge
I guess that trust has nothing to do with hope

It's really hard to live on and never wait,
To liberate all your fantasies, let'em fly
Resigning to the maxima "come what may"
And write your story across the undying sky

My poetry is the candle your love has lit
It's not the wax, but verses are dripping down
The wick of life is burning - I've got a bit
When everything is written I'll simply die.

Or, possibly, it will end up with less delay
If someone, who wants to leave to forget my face,
Just slams the door behind and goes away,
And blows out my dream
To another space

You're not a smoker - there are no matches at hand
To make alive that one decided to break
I know my fate, and truly I don't pretend
Please shelter my lonely light from a big mistake


(Ukhta, November 2013)

Tuesday, November 11, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: darkness
Bharati Nayak 05 February 2016

My poetry is the candle your love has lit It is not the wax but verses are dripping down The wick is burning - I have got a bit When everything is written I will simply die- -Light of love inspires, .when it stops inspiring, life has no meaning.Wonderful poem, thanks for sharing.

1 0 Reply
Daniel Brick 22 November 2014

I've already adopted this poem, it's a treasure of poetic truth. Two things up front 1) sometimes in writing a poem we discover a striking, general idea. There's one here, namely, TRUST HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH HOPE. I wrote that in my Poetry Notebook and put a box around it so I come back to it.2) This poem develops by a series of images - night/darkness (not nature's) /candle/light/dripping wax/poem writing/(finally) MY LONELY LIGHT, That last image is the poem's destination and provides a very satifying closure. Of course, the speaker's heart-issues are not yet resolved, but there is still a spiritual victory at the words' completion. SEE BOX

3 0 Reply
Loyd C Taylor Sr 12 November 2014

Hello poet friend Galina I really enjoyed this deep, mystical romantic poem. It was written from one who obviously has experienced the pain and joy of love. Nice work, Loyd

1 0 Reply
Shabeeh Haider 11 November 2014

A thought provoking and deep write. Enjoyed reading it

1 0 Reply
Gajanan Mishra 11 November 2014

the sky flashing with light, I like it, thanks. go on.. If you so like read my poems and say something what you think.

1 0 Reply
Error Success