broken chords

she stares at him
elbows akimbo and
painfully pointed, as
white alabaster shall
shatter to tiny tinkling
shards of heartsong

he doesn’t notice,
yet if never, how it
feels to desire, aching
for words; arms bent
to work longer, those
urgent cows in kilts

piano sails fast clipper
lingers on guitar strum
dishwasher humming
wet wipers swish back
and forth; passengers
on dismal carousel ride


A free verse surrealistic poem for dVerse Poetics.

15 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Frank Hubeny
    Nov 20, 2019 @ 21:37:37

    Nice last line about that carousel ride.


  2. rothpoetry
    Nov 20, 2019 @ 21:12:46

    Sometimes we get like this as we age… life itself becomes surreal to both parties!


  3. memadtwo
    Nov 20, 2019 @ 15:45:42

    aching for words…desires have such tangents, this captures them perfectly. (K)


  4. Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
    Nov 20, 2019 @ 14:08:50

    The sounds in this is very special… but most of all the cows in kilt


  5. Linda Lee Lyberg
    Nov 20, 2019 @ 07:57:22

    There is an aura of sadness surrounding this poem. The last stanza is stunning.


  6. lillian
    Nov 20, 2019 @ 07:14:03

    most especially loving that last stanza and all the musical sounds within this!


  7. kim881
    Nov 20, 2019 @ 01:30:06

    I like the musical surrealism of this poem, Lynn, especially the ‘tiny tinkling
    shards of heartsong’ and the ‘dishwasher humming’.


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