Monday, May 2, 2011

Soul of Ghosts (For Jingle)


Painting by Mirit Ben-nun

She does not look like me
Her clothes are rags and stained
My door she stands sobs please
Her hands outstretched in pain.

Her clothes are rags and stained
Eyes blue are blurred in tears
Her hands outstretched in pain
Thin lips held taught in fear.

Eyes blue are blurred in tears
Red hair tied tight by string
Thin lips held taught in fear
Yet still she wears my ring.

Red hair tied tight by string
Her smile once warm is gone
Yet still she wears my ring
Chapped cheeks are pale and drawn.

Her smile once warm is gone
My door she stands sobs please
Chapped cheeks are pale and drawn
She does not look like me.

***

She wears a cross of gold
Her presence is divine
My heart now feels paroled
Compared to me she shines.

Her presence is divine
She smells of life forgot
Compared to me she shines
Good bye my friend, Distraught.

She smells of life forgot
Not like my soul of ghosts
Goodbye my friend, Distraught
With chains and taunts and boasts.

Not like my soul of ghosts
She does not look like me
With chains and taunts and boasts
My door she stands sobs please.

She does not look like me
My heart now feels paroled
My door she stands sobs please
She wears a cross of gold.

9 comments:

kez said...

lovely ...thank you !

Jingle said...

what a contrasting and entertaining contribution.

both pieces are well done.

A++

honeyhaiku said...

This is wonderful work, a mirrored distortion. There is a bitter longing that is resonant in the piece.

Mama Zen said...

What a beautiful piece!

lunawitch15 said...

so lovely

thank you

jessicasjapes said...

You paint a great picture here - scary and sad but fascinating. Good tight use of words!
Thanks for visiting me earlier.

newtha said...

full of tricks!
i love the words,,

M. A. S. said...

Something about this structure is very haunting. It works nicely with the poem. And I really like "She smells of life forgot"

pushpee said...

lovely, loved it !! both the poems :))

I'm Just a Man (Recording Experiment ... I can't sing)

I am in the mood to change my tree to a cubic version.