The past re - threaded in a picture frame
sepia trail leading back to where
a vague sense of time in distress
pinned me there, seeping in
through the emulsion from the wall behind,
behind the present
to where hands now dust unclaimed
waited to draw me through,
throught the mortar of the past,
father as a son, grandfather as father,
grand aunt as little girl at the prime of lives
and the weight of my world hung
as if on the web of a spider.
Very descriptive and hypnotic - Nice work Ray
Thanks so much elP Tony and Stu for liking this poem .
The idea of it came from a photo from about 1914 in my hall , and I just stared at it and immersed myself in the gaze, a sort of hypnosis induced similar to what I might do when playing jazz.
I checked out TANK Tony and commented on it !
The spider's web was a sort of suspension of active thought, cheers.
Ray
excellent stuff. cant add much to what has already been said, reads like a 'proper' poem.
elPintor
Tue 4th Oct 2016 00:02
This is great, Ray. I really like the juxtaposition of the quality of mortar with that of the spider's web and the descriptive language used to capture that moment of looking into the past as described in our familial roots..almost hypnotic.
elP
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raypool
Wed 5th Oct 2016 19:36
THanks Tom for your comment - appreciate it.