- Image Provide by Vlad
i am here
just below those
fragmented pieces of colored glass
an illusion
perhaps
just a
shadow
but
can you see my bones
a spirit without form
but with substance
not to be touched
or prayed to
an angel
a demon
choose
as you must
but i am here
and unlike your
windows of belief
i see what you do
i follow you through the day
and see how words in the glow of god
fade in the light of day
for years
those petrified saints of glass
have looked down upon you
watching you inside on your knees
proclaiming your faith
rendering your thirty pieces of silver
but i
i move in the shadows outside
beneath the lies you tell
i’m the reflected colored light
in a night’s bed of passion
winking at you
before you crawl home
to a cold dinner
of yesterday’s hope
i am the cold touch
as you fall asleep
and the sharp pain
that you feel
as you
awake
This is the fifth part of a series of poetry challenges between Jade (http://jadepaloma.wordpress.com/) and me. The whole idea behind it is to send a picture ( in this case by Vlad) to the other as inspiration (or visual muse, if you want to), and the other has to write a poem inspired by the image. Visit her site to see how she has responded to m third challenge photograph on her site.
Read Between the Minds 
I get the shivers every time I look at these pictures of the dome in Milan… but now coupled with your words, the experience climbs to a completely new dimension. I always said that men (not all of them obviously – the real ones) are endowed with a level of sensitivity and abstraction that we women often lack. What these pictures and words convey is incredible. If there is a God, I am sure He would speak this way. And I am also sure it’s a He and not a She. 😉
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Profound and beautiful. You’ve captured a sense I’ve often had in the great cathedrals of France of looking for God but seeing only Man. A poem to meditate on all day – thank you.
Interesting poem and challenge you have going on here. thanks for sharing.
that is brilliant
A haunting sense of emotion in this poem, you took this challenge on very well, displayed incredibly in your words. It held a certain placement as though somewhere “in the middle” to me for some reason. Very well done. Great photo as well!
I especially like how this one ends.
I absolutely love your lines about Going home to a cold dinner of yesterday’s hope. Amazing poem!
I read this as God speaking to one’s conscience, but of course we must always choose whose voice we hear and follow. Very thought-inspiring piece. Heartspell
You are really keeping me in awe. 🙂
I have a strong faith but I see the hypocrisy of man as he walks into “hallowed halls” and then walks out again.
We are mere men none of us wear halos, we all suffer, and need that “hope from yesterday” to keep going.
Charlie – you never cease to amaze
Yes! This is in the real for me…Wonderful piece.
We think we’re exempted by pious petitions…but…
Tracy H
Yes, it is brilliant! The image of fragments of coloured glass is so full of meaning, the sharpness, cutting, passion, and more.
This challenge was a very good decision. You are writing thrilling poems.
In my understanding the entity who’s ‘speaking’ to us is closer to a demon than to an angel. Cold and without mercy is ‘monitoring’ people day and night, with their lies and life filled with deviances from the word of God. At the end of this poem I see no hope. Maybe you just forget the tiny source of light present in the picture just above the ‘fragmented pieces of colored glass’ and hence, above this speaking shadow…
True. Haunting. Thank you, slpmartin!
Wonderful photo for starters. I enjoy how each line has a lingering quality to it that sort of couples the poem together, as though it were stained glass being pieced back into a single pane. Much of your poetry has that feel. And indeed, a unique competition you have going – a surefire way of keeping the creative brain bubbling!