The painting

I pass
without knowing

A painting
Behind window
Front of me

A painting, some blood
Infected wounds
With bubbling fluid flowing
Its whispering,
A call with ambiguous expression

Hurrying, hurrying
Pass not, pass

Another city
Another window
Still same painting
Still some blood
It's corner, newborns
Landscape with scars
The ground, hollow
I couldn't understand

In the fifth world
The city number eight
Garlands of the jungle
An ambush, soft swamp
I can see the painting shiny
I can se it bright
Enlightened, shadowed
My body
My self-portrait


Poetry by Dilsewat
Read 641 times
Written on 2005-10-19 at 23:24

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email
dott Print text

A most captivating read...a rhythm that denotes a chase i think....or a search...maybe of who you are....anyway i liked it very much.


Wow--this is a very good write. It is kind of like your destiny-fate, whatever following you. There is a Stephen King story in the book "Everything's Eventual". A guy buys a painted, and it changes, and follows him---each step he takes reflects on this painting. Only it's evil character is actually after him...

This text is just as burning with an inner fire as you are!