The underground’s entrance is a clown’s mouth
Amelia thought of the path she used to walk
eternal afternoons
blissy oblivion
shiny silence
Then came the fall –she whispered — & death
Mysterious smile
Two days ago she longed for that path
yearned for its scent
missed the idea of it
or so she thought
_ DiStortEd nostalgia __
Yesterday she stumbled upon the entrance
where she drew a cat
where he drew a box
to shelter her mark
Expired unreality
A lonely cat was there
facing the snow and the rain
unprotected smiling under an absent cover
not suspecting its own delusion
Failed utopia
Amelia shed a tear —I need to see a box? It was here! Right here! Right h e r e
Erase this non-existence! Let it appear! Let me be blind! let me forget
Let that single memory be real! Let –Amelia … — AHHHHHHH!
A past that might had never occurred lies under the eyes of a clown
_____Adriana Citlali
XVII-III-MMXV
This really is quite moving, as well as a bit disconcerting.
there’s always that “something extra” in your poems that I enjoy. Nostalgia rarely survives close inspection.
Thank you for such a nice compliment.
What an ending, so mysterious yet something sinister and dark ~ Good one ~
A puzzle for me. I feel like there is much I am missing.
There must be allusions to other literature or something I am not privy too.
Wish I understood.
The nostalgia or longing all that’s gone can become just such a burden, almost like being trapped and tethered to the memories.. I hope there is a path forward sometimes.
oh heck.. that really gave me goosebumps… something creepingly sinister in the images
This is really quite eerie. I like that.
“The underground’s entrance is a clown’s mouth” … talk about a freaky image! This poem gives off a mysterious vibe that makes me want to read it over & over again.
Thanks, Alex! That image came to me almost randomly some days ago. I knew I had to use it in a poem.
I sense a tad bit of darkness well described.
Thanks for visiting my blog. I have missed summer too.
I love the way you have inserted two word phrases in between the stanzas and the creative way you have presented ‘distortion’—it all adds to this extremely effective result of brilliance!
Very deep & touching.
Hope Amelia comes in terms with & gets what she really wants.
You have drawn a deep picture. I find myself sympathizing with Amelia. Sometimes we attach ourselves strongly to memories, they anchor us. If we find, later on, the memory less strong, or in this case without evidence, that can be disconcerting. You leave us shaken a bit with the ending. Well done!
Ah… truly i live in that first place of real nostalgia where the afternoons are long and the flowers are more colorful.. now more.. than ever before.. the touch of a cat brings warm and fuzzy furry feelings of soul connecting to an exquisite reality of color and never gray…
But there is that grayLand where even the touch of warm and fuzzy cats do not exist.. and truly it tells me one thing and one thing only.. and that is every now is different and every human UNI verse is unique..
And how can i judge another person.. after living in rainbow heaven.. and the gray of never changing hell…
Life is truly magic as change is always possible.. but without that hope.. there is no light in dark.. and with hope.. there is always a burning ember of spark in dark..
And with all that gone.. as long as there is WILL tHere still is possibilities.. no matter the permanence of clowns in painted faces….. Dreams can and will come true..:)
I feel Amelia could be Alice’s sister in Wonderland.
Oh! Amelia certainly loves Alice.