Unfinished

in poetry •  7 years ago  (edited)



jesse-bowser-6054.jpg



Now I know what a ghost is. Unfinished business, that's what.
― Salman Rushdie



Faint above the ticking clock
The ceaseless tread of time


The passage of your days
Drawing circles in the rain

And the wind mourns your flight
With a passing distant train

A whistle on the wind,
That slowly fades away.

And all the hope
That never was,

The midnight talks
Of two of us

Pages filled with promise
Return to primal chaos

Your life a non-event
A bright coin lost unspent



© 2018, John J Geddes. All rights reserved



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I do not spend much time in the superficial realm John but this one took me deeper than I usually find myself. I am going to have to sit here for a while to take it all in. Thanks for giving me something to do, I am always looking for meaningful distraction from my frequently troubled mind. Best.

thanks, @dougj34 - my wife and I were just discussing something similar today. Distraction is sometimes the only escape from troublesome thoughts

I love poems and this is a really great poem. I have written poems since I was 12 years old.

thanks, sonya - I appreciate that compliment

Your welcome.

Nicely written. People forget how precious their time is until they don't have any more left. Is that your image as well? Thanks for posting this :)

yes, it is. Thanks, @mikesthoughts

I felt that! Did you take the photo? It reminds me of a dream...nice work

yes, it is dreamlike, but no, the photo is from Unsplash

Primal chaos.... A bright coin lost unspent ... haunting . Beautiful

Aww.. Love in air " the midnight talks of two of us". Makes me remember those times.

thanks, @delaw

what great writing! Thanks for posting!

thanks

I always read your poem.i try to write poem.

thank you

Pages filled with promise
Return to primal chaos.

         I like that word

thanks, @hanzade

This post has received a 2.40 % upvote from @booster thanks to: @johnjgeddes.

You are so good, this poem is so good is a pleasure read your post

thanks, Denisse

This post has received a 2.3 % upvote from @boomerang thanks to: @johnjgeddes

Come on John. they get better each time. I think this is so amazing. Its actually true in this universe we are but a speck of sand. Our dreams are ours and matter to us only I feel. Thanks again

This poem is hauntingly beautiful John; perhaps it's the 'space' I currently find myself in? It's amazing but really sad too; In the end, I guess we are all "unspent coins". sigh

You really do have a serious talent! And on a lighter note, I just noticed tonight that I wasn't following you?? not a Freudian slip buddy :)

Chills, chills , chills - that is my poetic analysis for this hahaha

nice piece, only a few can relate.

And the wind mourns your flight
With a passing distant train

Trains and nostalgia. Always so close to each other.

Thank you for sharing.