the reflection absorbs me–
torn pieces of rainbows,
all those things left undone
turning the inside out–
windows with no edges,
mirrors of light waves,
disintegration–
the reflection absorbs me–
don’t fence me in you say–
your words pile up in layers
that turn into
pieces of rainbows—
I am suspended between,
my replies tangled up
with the silence of the dead–
all those things left undone
all those unsent messages–
castaways held captive
on ships without a shore—
turning us inside out
Jade, at dVerse, has us considering edges.
Art from the archives with a cascade poem.
K. 
the repeating lines in the cascade give it feelings of disorientations and goodbyes. wings to get us away or just an illusion in the collage…
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Thanks Jade. That’s exactly the feeling I was thinking about.
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Oh, Kerfe, this is very powerful, especially combined with the pictures.
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Thanks Robbie.
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I like this!
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Thanks!
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🪞 🌈 😍
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Thanks David.
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your cascade format fits well … feel it’s about our refugees?
art is divine!
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Thanks Kate. I think it could fit many situations, both personal and public.
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true 🙂 keeping your options open 🙂
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That final image looks to me like an angel formed from a human corpse split open. This fits so well with your cascading words, especially the repeated ‘turning us inside out.’ ‘Torn pieces of rainbows’ are thrown up, but there’s a strange beauty to it all…
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Thanks Ingrid. Sometimes it’s hard to find an easy category for experience. A strange beauty to it all, both good and bad, all mixed up.
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I get a feeling of anguish from this, a slipping from the known into something to be dreaded. Like Ingrid I saw an opened rib cage in the image, that and the waves and ships imagery made me think Vikings and that blood eagle myth. Unsettling.
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Unsettled–so much of life is. Even when something is over, it’s not.
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I wonder if anything ever truly ends.
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It’s all a mobius strip perhaps.
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We watched that film over Christmas and I think I actually understood it. That’s rare for me.
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The only one I’ve read about the lack of edge and how disorienting that is.
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Very disorienting. Thanks Xan.
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There is an unsettled feeling–the feeling of being in-between spaces or world–especially those last two stanzas. Torn pieces of rainbows got me, too–not the beauty of scattered light, but torn pieces.
I also saw a rib cage–or like an X-ray, but also with that beautiful color and bird wings. Perhaps the spirit flying into the light.
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Thanks Merril. I had one thing in mind when I first wrote this, but it became something else when I revised it. I think both layers of meaning remain. It’s both cage and wings.
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Oh–interesting. It’s funny how we start writing one thing, and it turns into something else.
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My painting does the same thing. Maybe it’s me.
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I image it’s the creative process whatever the type.
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The repeated lines make me think that edges are something we cross, like layers in a cake.
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It’s hard to find them sometimes.
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“castaways held hostage on a ship without a shore'”… what a wonderfully descriptive phrase. Word magic!
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Thanks Beverly.
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I am suspended between,
my replies tangled up
with the silence of the dead–
all those things left undone
Sometimes one is faced with choices that get entangled with lots of other permutations. Love the cascades and the repetitions that put us on edge. Great one K!
Hank
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Thanks Hank!
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Hi kerfe, arthritic fingers making typing excruciating, but was here and read — good work!
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Thanks Rob. Hope things improve.
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Reading this was a marvelous experience, thank you!!
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thanks Zelda
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You’re welcome.
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Outstanding work …. poetry and art.
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Thanks Helen.
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Excellent work, K!
“windows with no edges,
mirrors of light waves,
disintegration–
the reflection absorbs me–”
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Thanks!
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I was lost in the words in a good way, the second stanza was my favourite!
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Thanks Emine.
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