Tag Archives: faces

in a far off land

In a far off land
a consort looks out a window
and says a small prayer.

She has a face
free
of life’s perverse humors
yet above the symmetrical contours
of a delicate mouth
and a rich nose
are pale blue eyes
burdened
with dark purple rings
that reflect nights without sleep
and knowledge
of time fading.

On her head
an old headband
fashioned in a different age
for an old queen
now lying in a grave;
each precious stone
a bittersweet responsibility
that presses down
and spawns
the dragons of tomorrow.

Pray for God and sun
pray for hope
pray that when the storm is done
and caprice awakened
that the thread remains
and leads you back
home.

– matt at shadow of iris
in a far off land
[Inspired by the art of David Stoupakis.]

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    small little faces

    Small little faces
    peer out at me
    from flowers that bloom
    only under
    the full moon.

    – matt at shadow of iris
    small little faces
    [Inspired by the work of Valerie Monthuit.]

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      his face

      He sat down in the chair
      and promptly removed his face
      picked up the newspaper
      and began to read
      about a sale on pretensions
      and affectations
      to be held on the morrow
      at the local constabulary.

      – matt at shadow of iris
      his face

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        her eyes still shine

        She’s a frail thing
        very thin
        very old
        stooped over
        and slow moving
        but nestled there among the wrinkles
        through her crunched up little face
        her eyes still shine.

        – matt at shadow of iris

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          faceless

          A swing
          hangs from a firm branch
          over soft calm water
          where the only disturbance
          is the occasional small fish
          that jumps up and out
          making a small splattering noise
          as it falls back in;
          the swing is made of old thin twine
          and a worn piece of wood
          broken not sawed
          and upon it sits
          my sweet red haired girl,
          she wears the same purple gown
          she wore on that first night
          I was with her –
          how I remember its warm velvet touch
          beneath my fingers tips
          as I traced her contours
          before she reached out
          and took my hand in hers
          leading me to a secret place
          I had never dreamed of –
          but now fog covers everything
          and though I reach out to you
          across the water
          there’s an expanse there
          that I’ll never get beyond
          because you’ve become lost
          in thought
          distant
          and faceless.

          – matt at shadow of iris
          faceless
          [This poem was inspired by the work of Esao Andrews.]

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            faces

            We don’t understand faces any longer
            we don’t understand attraction
            back then, time was
            when life was harsh
            physically
            it took a toll
            you were out there in it
            meshing with it
            and the cold hurt
            two much smoothness frightened us
            but a rough, worn face
            a face that could take it all in
            and keep it
            then still move on
            that was a face that reassured
            so back then
            everyone wanted a face like that
            yet now the biggest concern
            is knowing when and how to smile
            to show you’re not so dumb
            and that older face
            has gone out of style
            everyone’s afraid
            they don’t quite fit in
            and it shows in their faces.

            – matt at shadow of iris

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              poem: your face

              Your face
              holds in it for me
              an attraction so strong
              it devoirs me
              and leaves me void

              I am on a train
              and I try not to stare
              but my God, that face
              it’s like a miracle
              by the grace of God
              let me look

              with a glance
              I take snapshots
              with my eyes
              closing them and
              pretending
              I can burn your image
              permanently
              onto my retinas
              but alas it fades
              all too fast

              one more look
              is all I want
              just one more
              I promise it’ll
              be my last
              a brief casual glance
              and ah … I’m dying

              I’d try to tell others
              what I saw
              but they’d laugh
              as if I’d seen
              a UFO
              a big foot
              a loch ness monster

              the train stops
              and you are off
              and I am left
              like a addict
              deprived
              of his addiction.

              – Marya Ophir

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