Traffic lights have such an easy job
Blinking life away, oblivious
To shattered glass and acts of tragedy
Or signs of cardboard begging charity
Who am I to stand aghast at life
Twisted metal spilling in the streets
And ask the reasons why it all should be
When I could wait in quiet apathy
But I am not a blinking traffic light
I am not a lifeless entity
Conscious to the wreckage we create
I am not content to sit and wait
We have felt the force of passing forms
Ripping through the course of our intent
I can taste the spillage of our hearts
I inhale the putrid bitter scent
Burnt and broken heaps that once were love
Scattered on the landscape of desire
Empty vessels gutted in the dark
Hope that we abandoned to the fire
Sometimes I would like to be machine
Incapable of tears for what I know
But I am not a traffic light that blinks
I cannot tell when to stop or go
Not A Traffic Light
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I am glad you are not a traffic light. Humanity should have more going for it than stop and go and living with hope abandoned and love scattered on the landscape of desire. There is some strong language in this poem, but mostly the wreckage we see around us is upsetting enough to deserve strong language.
Thank you, Thomas. Along with our unique capacity for fulfillment comes our unique capacity for pain and depression. We are unique creatures. Thank you for stopping by 🙂
Sometimes I feel very much like a burnt and broken heap that once was love.
So well worded and beautifully painful.
I hope the spillage of our hearts is not too much to taste. Goodnight VW
We have all been burnt and broken, I’m sure, but the flames of our wreckage will warm the hands of the survivors. Thank you Lydia 🙂
VW, I had such a strong reaction to this that my husband (sitting nearby) turned around and said “what?” I had exhaled loudly in a release of admiration for your poetry – once again. This is another striking example of your masterful imagery and phrasing!
That might be the most wonderful comment I have read in a long time. You are such a kind soul, Betty. I am blessed that you visit me here 🙂
Brilliant
Thank you very much, Blue bee, although that is a strong word 😉
I think we all wish for that type of piece. I love it.
Thank you so much, Willow. It was a strange poem to write, but I’m glad you found something in it 🙂
“I can taste the spillage of our hearts
I inhale the putrid bitter scent
Burnt and broken heaps that once were love” Wonderfully powerful and innovative phrasing to say how you are NOT a stoplight! Praise be you can FEEL! I honor your mourning lost loves, wrecked loves, twisted loves here. Very strong poem that sets such a great example of sharing genuine emotion in a way that leads to more consciousness.
Yes, feeling is wonderful isn’t it? …or is it? 🙂
To feel is to be masochistic
Love pure still hurts
And happiness
Is often tinged with ridicule
Being human
Is our weakest link
And our best asset
But the more I stop and think
The more I envy these machines
I love this, so true and it is how I often feel. Traffic lights see so much of us and we never stop and think if what they see is what we need to improve or that sometimes not feeling and always knowing is a grand luxury.
Andrea xoxo
So true, Andrea. Thank you for your magical rhymes and lovely thoughts
A great poem VW, I’ve had times when it would have been easier to be a machine, sometimes feelings can be overwhelming, especially the painful ones.
Happy Valentines Day.
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───────────▀ Big hugs, Nikki
Thank you so much, Nikki! I hope you had a wonderful Valentine’s Day!
A rich vein tapped here, and skillfully.
Thank you so much Ben 🙂
I’m not one either. Sometimes I think I’d be better if I were, but anyway… 🙂
Awesome writing VW!
The tim man never knew how blessed he was 🙂
VW this is indeed a deep poem entwined with metal and colours of red and Green.. to stop or go or stay inbetween..
Argh…… now….. what colour am I waiting for 🙂 😉 Loved this xx
Turquoise perhaps? Thank you so much Sue 🙂
This is excellent, really excellent Vampire Weather.
Thank you so much, my friend! 🙂
It’s all very powerful, and the last 3 lines rip my heart. Wishing you a blessed day.
I appreciate that. Feeling is a lovely curse