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It means
something
but I'm not sure
something else
something
our thoughts
connect
I'm sitting on the couch
seeing you
through the doorframe
on your computer
at the kitchen table
your concentrated face haloed
by the screen's soft electric light
and melamine
it means something
is it love
whatever that means
is it
a memory
a scene from a painting
by Vermeer
the layers
associations
the veneer
it means something
the world
is a room of clues
representations
for words for feelings
or incidental rhymes
of mind or
it just is
like two bodies
orbiting
and the moving tide
the sea
see
I get it
nothing lasts.
3 comments:
The power of a single moment, the power of a single lasting image of someone you love ...
I'm reminded of a Woody Allen movie -- it might be Stardust Memories -- where he has a similar sentiment while watching his lover unbeknownst to her.
I remember that scene from Stardust Memories. Marielle Hemingway. So many touching, and at the same time creepy, aspects about that movie. Isn’t there also an e.e. cummings poem in that movie? Coincidentally (I wrote the poem before) this week I saw a fascinating documentary called Jim’s Vermeer on Netflix. Highly recommended if you haven’t seen it.
But my other question, and really why I wrote the poem, is why does one thing always have to mean, or represent, or refer to something else? Is it the nature of consciousness to make connections? I mean do animals make connections? Why are we incapable of accepting things 'as is'? Is that even possible? Is the sense that everything is connected, in one way or another, the universal truth ie. the ultimate meaning. Even a single moment, is actually a lifetime.
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