Nov
Faces in the Night
By Trackwood Von Broekn
Because it was late,
and I had worked a long day,
and had been drinking afterwards;
and perhaps part of the blur came from the spot
on the cold window
my warm exhalations had already fogged
as my nose became intimate with the glass
in the crush of the crowd.
But I could not tell
if the train on the other side of the platform
was rushing by,
or if the one beneath my leaden feet
had already started once again on its endless journey
to the place it had left so many times before.
And, somehow,
although the faces far ahead could be stopped
and held in focus,
and those far behind could be locked with my gaze
for the closest inspection,
the present tense
of those directly across from me
could not be analyzed,
could not be scrutinized,
could not even be vaguely seen or understood
as they rushed by so quickly.
Tiffany V
I integrate Transformative Language Arts into any work I do, and I work with people all over the world, but I can't tell you who they are, due to NDAs! I was once told, “you exude art.” So, I decided to spend the rest of my life helping other like-minded individuals get to do the same. Let’s do something magical together!
I grant-ed myself the bewildered luxury of reading this unsettling blur three times, but the vertigo remained. The images are blurred sightings, quick, off the board darts & uneven train sways lacking any steady meter. The result is an effective presentation of motion without emotions in my opinion.
I did like the pathos turning circle of life within the phrase, “started once again on an endless journey to the place it had left so many times before.” There is an impressionistic alienation and disconnect throughout this poem which kept throwing me off the train onto this cyber platform, time lined looping.
Sometimes it is difficult to know wether we are moving life, or life is moving us…. I guess it doesn’t matter as long as we’re mov’in.
Enjoyed this piece. Thank you.
This captures a lot in a few spare lines. The emotional tone speaks to me of the human condition, wanting intimacy, people rushing by…others wanting intimacy and then we rush by…always trying to focus, to rest in each others’ gaze, to touch…to understand a poem, to be moved by a story…Let’s take a breath and stop the train at the end of the contest to appreciate each other!