The land created me. I’m wild and lonesome. Even as I travel the cities, I’m more at home in the vacant lots.
Bob Dylan
From somewhere, a wind is blowin’, from where you sang
to look for answers; but it’s questions, to be frank,
I’m searching for; I search citiscapes and vacant lots:
solutions might be peace or love, but for whom is not.
There are stories told, in faces, pale against the walls
there’s a silence as of children born from fists and brawls.
I search the empty fields and walk into the forest deep
and only in the silence of the night its knowledge seeps
into my dreams and into fragments of a question: why?
that’s how dreams are true from when we’re born and till we die.
There are stories told, in faces, pale against the walls
there’s a silence as in children born from fists and brawls.
And I see the lines, that find a way to carve my face,
a mark of every time I’ve see the autumn bloom in haste
and then decay; I wonder if my questions why – is life.
I wonder if my purpose is in dreams and not in strife.
There are stories told, in faces, pale against the walls
there’s a silence as in children born from fists and brawls.
Vacant lot by Robert Spencer
Hannah asked us to use Brainy Quotes to at toads, and I wanted to have one by Bob Dylan today. Which also fits to my Bob Dylan prompt.
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October 15, 2016
Liking best your “I see the lines,” Bjorn. We both had Dylan’s blowing wind in our first lines.
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I love the line, “There are stories told, in faces, pale against the walls
there’s a silence as of children born from fists and brawls” Some amazing writing here BJorn!!.
“There are stories told, in faces, pale against the walls there’s a silence as in children born from fists and brawls.”
These lines add to much to the beauty and depth of this poem ❤️
You should link those Zoe videos. That’s what this reminds me of.
Excellent poem about child abuse … from my POV, anyway.
Yes indeed… You mean this?
I do.
Silence and stories… Told without words, yet captured and retold here… I actually found this touching, beautiful….
Oh I came via Magalys blog… And pleased, also love the collaged visual treats you use on your posts 👍 Have a sweet weekend!
A beautiful refrain Bjorn ~ Love the prose poem ~
This is very cool. “There are stories told, in faces, pale against the walls there’s a silence as in children born from fists and brawls.” Wow! You could hang a book – dang, you could hang a library off of the blow back from those lines. Outstanding!
there’s a silence as in children
born from fists and brawls.
This has such a dark reality that many may not want to say. Love certainly is more than holding hands but the grim episodes of disagreements are always there
Hank
I search the empty fields and walk into the forest deep
and only in the silence of the night its knowledge seeps
into my dreams and into fragments of a question: why?
that’s how dreams are true from when we’re born and till we die.
loved these lines….!!
The power of questioning that Dylan seemed to delve into, and that you have raised in this. A preview for what is to come!
Powerful indeed, Bjorn. I love this refrain:
“There are stories told, in faces, pale against the walls
there’s a silence as of children born from fists and brawls.”
Thank you so much for writing!