Where He Listened Alone

There was wilderness that took them to Eden

A whirling glass that took them home

A broken vase that took them to a shattered life

But that was the only place they’d known;

 

Which would bring them back to paradise, naked and alone.

 

It was a sight sought in a melting moon,

A pink ribbon wrapped around a branch,

Deep waters in a shallow pond,

Somewhere beneath that game of chance.

 

A soldier slaughtered in the field of battle,

A betrayed lover lost to lust,

A wandering spirit who’s chance had been taken, 

And then in time turned to dust.

 

It was the next moment in the hour, the week or the month,

The next time his eyes had opened,

The next time in life he did trust.

 

Another’s promise or guarantee, truthful swear of certainty,

Step into darkness where trust is unknown,

A place he’d hope would take him home.

 

It wasn’t Alice, the rabbit or a throne,

Not a giant who’d been tied down by little people in a place unknown.

 

Not a sleeping beauty in a crystal box

Or watched over by dozens of gnomes.

 

But a story like all of the stories before,

Where he sat in the corner and listened alone.

Avatar
Johnny Johnstonhttp://www.blufengr-art.com/
An artist/writer as well as graduate of the University of South Carolina with degrees in journalism/20th Century American Literature, and retired senior executive of several international hotel/resort corporations, Johnny is the product of the south having been raised in the ever-changing transient lifestyle of a Carolina coastal resort. A point where he discovered, within his 300-year-old heritage and the world's dramatic social/cultural shifts during the late '60s to early 80’s an ambitious hunger and overwhelming curiosity to touch, see and become a participant in the virtually unlimited possibilities offered to those who wish for and seek life experiences. A journey which when hearing its details initially makes one a bit skeptical, questioning its validity as it is hard to imagine that incidents such as these may have crossed one man’s lifetime. This is the fodder required to step into zones exposing one's personal inner self, which many of his paintings and the words he writes do, openly. An ability to see and hear the tragic, beautiful, accomplished, exciting journey in a life free of inhibitions allowing others the opportunity to live vicariously and become, through his works, a part of its future. His larger works which have been featured in several Colorado and Fredericksburg Texas galleries and resorts have produced a number of collectors and fans. However, over the years, his paintings are mostly viewed by friends, enthusiastic new artist encountered on the streets or a small number of acquaintances he meets when dining in local cafés with his wife.
Please Login to comment
avatar
  Subscribe  
Notify of
Lynn Forrester-Pitocco

I love this, even though I rarely read or write poetry, but I am learning too.

Anonymous
Anonymous

Yours imagery on this story is amazing. It was sad and tender. You hope for a better day yet it never comes. Johnny this is excellent writing. Well done my friend.

JUST ONE CLICK HERE TO GET YOUR DAILY DOSE

REDISCOVER HUMANITY

"Human beings have an innate inner drive to be autonomous, self-determined, and connected to one another. And when that drive is liberated, people achieve more and live richer lives."

SHARE YOUR JOURNEY

Powerful voices from around the globe that speak to our shared human experience. Add your story to our best-selling book series!

JUST 1 CLICK

IS ALL IT TAKES TO LEARN SOMETHING NEW TODAY

Must Read

JUST 1 CLICK

IS ALL IT TAKES TO BEGIN ENJOYING OUR PODCASTS

JUST 1 CLICK

IS ALL IT TAKES TO EXPLORE OUR INSPIRING GLOBAL COMMUNITIES