Eternal Solitude

This coffee cup hides behind images of time

; a stimulating Lowry landscape

I taste memories hidden within depths of despair

as I sip, resting my lips against each brush stroke of time

from which the artist found something unforeseen to conquer

some demon of art, something darkly poetic within his imagination

something of which he needed to explain away

and so he kissed the virgin canvas with fingers of neglected creativity

and as my lips move away, I am crushed by my own reflection

crushed by myself as I retreat

deep into the shadows of time

where stains are the glue of ghosts

and these ghosts haunt me with bitter tongues of coldness

seeking a revenge from all the darlings I’ve killed

from all the moments I’ve ignored and not allowed breath

from all the candles I’ve burnt only to snuff out, too early, their spirit

from all the feelings, passions, melodies and songs I’ve burnt into neglection

and as Lowry wraps himself from handle to handle

frozen in time

his daemons dance in eternal solitude

… and there I see myself

~~~

Recently I joined a writing group, Castlecroft Writers, and our homework last month was to write a piece, prose or poetry, of no more than 1,000 words about Revenge and to incorporate a mirror … and so I sat looking at my coffee and noticed the painting by Lowry wrapped around the cup, and so I wrote the poem.