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Through a Battered Viewfinder, Revised
Contributed by
ShadowDaughter
on
Sunday, 15th February 2004 @ 03:02:44 AM in AEST
Topic:
LostLove
|
with practiced ease,
she deftly conceals
the touch of reluctance
in her not-quite-casual stride
as she makes her way
to the cliff's perilous edge
eyes only for a video-camera
she watches with widened eyes
fixated, and spellbound
replaying cached memories
like soap opera reruns
through an ancient viewfinder
with fogged-up glass and dented metal
early edition, and thusly unable
to capture the laughter and tears
the day they met
flickers for the thousandth time onto the screen
black-and-white version, of course,
static-y with long-suppressed emotion
which she smiles a smile to match
tears she'd never admit were shed
further smear the glass
blurring a world that she had thought
was already blurred as could be
she walks to the tip of the cliff
watching through the lens
with hungered and feverish eyes
she fast-forwards through the strife
shed seen it oft enough before
replaying her favorite kiss (the first)
till she has to squint to see
harshly, she forces herself out her reverie
and hisses in a whisper hoarse,
"better to have never loved
than loved and lost like this."
liking its sound, she repeats the phrase
again and again till the meaning is lost
knowing too well that memory,
sadly unlike lightning,
can strike again and again and again
obliterating a little every time.
without measures taken,
one day a bolt will strike,
for the billionth time,
and find nothing left to sizzle
reminding herself that she'll not let this happen,
she forces conviction into her step
the edge of the cliff draws nearer
and with a ragged breath, she flies
and then--
the wind tangles her hair and is all around and the world is nothing but wind and terror and wind and falling falling falling FALLING and wind and all she can see is stern rock faces surrounding her and its down down down down down and theres nothing no past no future only NOW and now is terrifying and whats going to happen and the wind makes her shut her eyes tightly as it stings her face and shes flying only a twisted perversion of flying filled with terror and she cant think and its a blessing for she dares not think and the ground draws nearer nearer nearer and Death beckons at the bottom and its almost over but the video-camera no no no no NO cant let it hit and the ground is inches away and she twists in Herculanean effort to hold the camera aloft and now its safe and she can finally just--
and then she was gone.
Copyright ©
ShadowDaughter
... [
2004-02-15 03:02:44]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: Through a Battered Viewfinder, Revised
(User Rating: 1 )
by bluoreo on
Sunday, 15th February 2004 @ 03:58:12 AM AEST
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|
This was an amazing write! I swear I got goose bumps. It was written so well that I could have been reading a book. Keep them coming please.
-Eric |
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Re: Through a Battered Viewfinder, Revised
(User Rating: 1 )
by Vitreous_Soul on
Sunday, 15th February 2004 @ 07:27:45 AM AEST
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a Message)
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I thoroughly enjoyed the original, but this does in fact outshine that work of art! Every minor gripe I had with the original has been washed away, leaving this as a pure masterpiece.
Truly, affectionately,
-Dan |
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Re: Through a Battered Viewfinder, Revised
(User Rating: 1 )
by lil_angel on
Wednesday, 25th February 2004 @ 04:31:19 AM AEST
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a Message)
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| As usual ur poetry blows me away! Keep up the good work! |
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Re: Through a Battered Viewfinder, Revised
(User Rating: 1 )
by STRaNGe_LiNDSeY on
Saturday, 3rd April 2004 @ 08:13:08 PM AEST
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a Message)
|
wow Nora, nice revisions....again i was right there in the midst of the fall looking at the girl... she looked a lot like myself... thank you
Lindsey |
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Re: Through a Battered Viewfinder, Revised
(User Rating: 1 )
by Eve on
Tuesday, 15th November 2005 @ 09:40:18 PM AEST
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a Message)
|
Came back to this today (as I tend to do).
Made me cry again.
And you know that significance, so I don't need to explain.
Thank you again for your poetry, Nora. Thanks for having the courage to hit the submit button, even knowing you can edit it . . .
it's still courage. Thanks.
-Eve. |
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