Saturday, May 4, 2013

The Seer


to listen to a reading


https://soundcloud.com/aka_andrea/the-seer




I saw her sitting alone on the curb

as people moved past her.

Up and down the street

on their way to here and there.

She watched with eyes wide

her face resembling a blank page.

Never looking long enough

to cause her head to turn.

You could see within that eye

that something registered.

But you could never tell what it was

as she never even blinked.

Her gaze was steady, solid,

eyes like cameras recording it all.

But what she did with those images

one could never tell.

I watched from where I stood

for what seemed like hours.

Though in reality,

I’m sure only moments passed.

In those moments

something in me knew her.

I walked over to her

and asked if I could sit down.

She never turned her gaze away

from the movement on the street.

But there was an almost unseen nod

toward the curb.

I sat down and tried to see

the world from her vantage point.

But I realized that

there was a mystery in what she saw.

Moments passing, glimpses stolen,

nothing solid, nothing stayed.

There was no pause, no story,

only phrases and broken words.

Conversations unfinished,

sentences lacking punctuation.

Thoughts unexplained,

intentions unresolved.

 Beside her I simply stared

and began writing stories.

Beginnings and building

on everything that I saw.

There was dialogue and dramatic pause

there were silences empty and filled.

There was romance and intrigue

yet there was never any resolve.

I chose to let the stories remain unfinished

in homage, in reverence, to her.

To the keeper of visions of lives

as they come and go.

I knew it was time for me to take my leave

I felt something shift in her rhythm.

Before I rose I had to ask her one question

I felt that she had something she wanted say.

I drew a breath and simply asked her why

she only stared at moments passing time.

The words came out crackling

as if her voice had never been used.

I could almost swear the words

were covered in dust.

She said it quietly and with finality

no question that was all that there was.

“Sometimes there are

just too many words…”

 

 

10 comments:

  1. You wrote a powerful, disconcerting scene here. The ending is interesting. So many words must have been swirling in her brain unexpressed. This must have been very uncomfortable to endure. So much goes on inside a person that we really never realize from the outside.

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  2. You had me absolutely captivated. Somehow this girl reminds me of my high school self

    I am
    http://mindlovemisery.wordpress.com/

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  3. This is a captivating write--wonderfully penned!

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  4. So intriguing, and sometimes there are too many words. Beautiful write.

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  5. An ode to the one who is always watching. I really like the lines:

    /Moments passing, glimpses stolen,

    nothing solid, nothing stayed/

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  6. Pow!
    And thus the watcher needs the narrator, or maybe not. I love the excess of the story. Bravo!

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  7. wonderful. very beautiful. choice of words makes a poet and you are truely a wonderful one!

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  8. Sometimes silence says more than words...

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  9. I like the words covered in dust and the narrator telling her story.

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  10. Felt kind of a chill with her words...loved yours.

    Anna :o]

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