Gassin
The musings of my mind are not amusing.
Stories don’t come out
metaphors have no form
the mountain doesn’t speak
neither does the sun
he just passes through
leaves and skids on roof tiles
on his way west without a word.
He is and is not.
In this remoteness my heart
grows numb and hard.
A bird chirps and it’s just a chirp
a background noise
a coded note without a cypher.
Cold creeps in the evenings
fog eats the islands
and a cloudy haze snuffs
all starry connections.
Is there nothing else then?
Only silence in my heart and yours
fortresses on hilltops
contemplating time and ruin
in splendid isolation?
Grimaud castle
unbuttoned or undone 
I love this, in all its desolate, barren quiet.
I know this feeling well. It does me good to read it in your precise, articulate words.
xx
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That’s it, the barren quiet! I suppose the changing season and the impending darker days do not alleviate the mood! Thank you Kat, you know just what to say 🙂 Hugs
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Splendid isolation… I like that!
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It isn’t original but it came on its own. I figured it wanted to be recycled and I used it. Around here ruins abound, and they stand alone more often than not. they invite questions.
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I hope they also give answers…
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Those are harder to come by… That’s why I muse 😉
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Such poetry to tell us the poetry is gone.
I also “Liked” it, but something’s wrong with my setup and my “Likes” disappear into a soft black silence.
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I don’t think it is your set up, I think WP is working on ‘improving’ something and it just wiped out the ‘like’ thingy… I haven’t changed a thing so….
Well, yeah. I think it’s a long standing tradition since the romantic poets of the 19th to bemoan the departure of the muse… You know, you show up at your writing desk and she is off somewhere in Tahiti learning new moves…:-/
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No more reliable than sprites, are they?
It’s my setup, I think. I also don’t get notifications anymore when someone replies to my comments.
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Hi Em! I identify strong with this regarding life while the muse is on vacation. Currently, my situation. I like how the personification of isolation and lack of emotion is played out in the natural scene. Your poems always cut through my well crafted defenses and captivate my head elves, 😀
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…Head elves, now that gives me pause! But I must confess to getting a charge out of breaking down a well thought out defense. Thank you for the huge compliment!
And could it be that our muses are together partying in the Spring of the southern hemisphere?
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LOL! Yes, they must be off watching a new Spring. Don’t mind the head elves. They are harmless even if they are quite noisy. 😀
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Beau et triste, et toujours magique.
Splendid isolation is an unfortunate turn of phrase, describing, as it does, UK foreign policy over the past couple of centuries.
Always excepting, of course, the sycophantic ‘sooking up’ to the USA which is the new norm.
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I did not intend to even remotely evoke the UK’s policies in that line. My intent was pure irony looking at silent –and no longer useful– defenses of a crumbling fortress. I also happened to see this image which used the same words.
I am glad you liked the work in spite of the turn of phrase. I will always smile at magic 😉
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My apologies for sullying your beautiful fantasy-filled space with sordid politics.
The work is magnificent.
I should have ignored the connotations of the phrase.
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You didn’t sully anything. A button was pushed unwittingly and a spontaneous reaction followed. We all have buttons. No apology necessary here but I do appreciate your sensitivity and thoughtfulness. Thank you my friend.
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Delightful musings.
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A little delight can go a long way on a sullen Sunday afternoon. Thank you. Smiling.
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Sullen here too. Smiles.
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Emm,
Sounds like you’re having one of my days. Sad, but this time of year brings out a lot of days like that. Someone said, “cheer up, things could be worse”. So I cheered up, and sure enough, they got worse !!! Good night sweet lady. May your tomorrows be warm and filled with light. Hugs !
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The sun will come out tomorrow, tomorrow….
Somedays it is like that!
I am sorry you are having a hard time in this changing season.
A fire, a kittycat, a hot something to drink by your side, a good book maybe, a little soft music…. it’s the season to rest and see what bubbles up from deep inside, and be kind to yourself. To be rich is to possess things that have no price; the rest is just stuff taking up space. XOXO
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