A poem after 50

by Karla   Nov 11, 2014

The black veins of the day
pulse deep inside:
it's me again, noiseless,
small and almost insane,
crawling behind the exact words
to define what is impossible
as minutes observe me
unbuttoning my self.

nothing ever changes
who stands at the window,
looking for the speakable word,
not now, not yet.
consider this.

i am half a century older
and less wise.
yes, life was,
yes, life is
and i don't know anything
about myself.
now i slow my voice
and sit on the edge
of so many truths.
now the density of my day
can be measured by
my lack of sense.

karla bardanza


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Latest Comments

  • 3 years ago

    by Baby Rainbow

    The contemplation of life is very strong in this poem. The realisation that one has aged, time has passed, yet regrets seem to surface in this author's mind. Have they truly lived their life like they wanted? If they have been alive so long, then how come they have struggled to find themselves, and truly get to know themselves. This poem is a very deep poem, holding a lot of meaning inside the words, how we treat ourselves, and how we treat life. Knowing oneself would bring such wisdom and peace. Powerful write.

  • 3 years ago

    by Narph

    This is really gorgeous.

  • 3 years ago

    by Rania Moallem

    This is brilliant Karla !

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