on the edge…

Challenge Photo II from Jade

the gray morning
air presses hard
against me
holding back
the sounds
of my footsteps
that were so clear
and distinct
as i began
this journey
but now
all i can hear
are my labored breaths
in and out
my throbbing heart
a heart seeking
to escape
these city walls
to leave behind
this street
where laughter
and joy
have fled
where only
your memory resides
shrouded in betrayal
wearing a cross
of lies
to conceal
the truth
of who
and what
you are
and what
you’ve done


This poem represents my second response to  the second challenge series between Jade and I.  As you may recall, each poet provides the other with a series of photos, visual prompts,  from which the poet is to write a poem.  Jade has written her response which can be found here

26 thoughts on “on the edge…

  1. The words, “where laughter and joy have fled where only your memory resides shrouded in betrayal” seem to resonate a very ominous feeling for me.

    An awesome and very captivating poem.

  2. All of the pictures from this challenge were taken in Germany just before Christmas 2008… it was one of the darkest periods of my life, and the offset of a decision which costs me sleep and peace of mind even now. I cannot stop marveling at how accurately you got the message behind the pitures… to me it is beyond unbelievable…

  3. boy that betrayal rings loud and clear off the cobbled streets.
    you always hit the intense moment

    Nice one my friend

    Happy Wednesday

    • What is interesting about your comment is that in one draft of the poem I had used the word “whirling and spiralling” … but in the final draft removed them. Thanks for your comments.

  4. aaarrrgghhh.. if only we could all run away.. and be free!
    I could almost see frantically running around, eyes red due to sleeplessness, a disheveled look worn!

    Very nicely done, Charles… the confusion, helplessness and frustration are so apparent here..

  5. Honey, you haven’t felt the air pressing hard against you until you’ve been to New Orleans in the summertime. The air there reaches in your pants and squeezes, but that’s an entirely different poem, isn’t it? 🙂

  6. Amazing words and collaborations, and I am in love with the photo for this post….ahhh and my dreamy mind drifts, and of course my artistic mind would love to capture such a view and alter the image to some unusual state of being…..

    Captivated by your words though sad a finish…..like I wished for it to change and carry it far beyond the city walls… excellent!

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