a journey filled with many familiar paths and some not yet taken... all leading to the ever-changing destinations just waiting to be discovered.

Pages

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Blank White Echoes...


photo by Greg Laychak
as shared at One Stop Poetry on their
Sunday photographer interview
I wheel forth in the depths of nothingness,
Down hallways of my mind, blank white echoes...
Yesterday's moments of sunshine glisten,
In damp misty moments of today's tears.

If I could rise, see the outer gardens,
Memories of jasmine filling my soul...
Glimmers of days gone by, tender touches,
Breezes of the heart held out beyond walls.

Instead, endless unmarked moments fill days,
Long corridors to nowhere mark my world...
Bleach stained floors leading to countless doorways,
Each one could be mine, yet none seem to be.

Lost lifetimes left unshared in loneliness,
Aging bitterness stinging the heartstrings...
Forgotten in a world tucked away now,
Dignities stolen in the darkness of time.

I wheel forth in the depths of nothingness,
Down hallways of my mind, blank white echoes...

Petrina Lesko
April 2011


This wonderful picture was shared over at One Stop Poetry as this weeks photo prompt for the Sunday Photography Interview with Greg Laychak.  He is a fabulous documentary photographer worth exploring.  Please stop by to see all the other great talent shared.


21 comments:

Anonymous said...

Loved this! The photo brings forth lots of feelings and the poem interepreted them very well.

Anonymous said...

'..blank white echoes.....' Says a lot.

Brian Miller said...

the depths of nothingness...how apt a description...nice take on the prompt...

dustus said...

The feels of stolen dignity and lost time... heavy emotions to endure. A painful nothingness you have expressed. Fine poem.

Glynn said...

Those hallways, those corridors -- we're all looking down them. Good poem.

signed...bkm said...

wheeling into the depths of nothingness...so many end a fruitful life this way...so very sad...but such a real aspect of living...bkm

Beachanny said...

This is a very powerful poem. The last words stick and resonate. What a personal story found in this photograph. Well written! Thank you, Gay

Shayla said...

The photo brings a lot of emotion to me...it is truly a great capture. The poem has the same effect, glad I stumbled upon this entry.

I'm sorry to hear about your loss and hope you find a new companion. I lost my Corgi about two months ago and have been healing from it. Going to that Dog Show seemed to help. A bunch of cute little dogs in one place really cheered me up.

Anonymous said...

"I wheel forth in the depths of nothingness,
Down hallways of my mind, blank white echoes ..."

This indeed echoes ... nicely done!

James Rainsford said...

'Long corridors to nowhere mark my world...'
Great line! This was a challenging photo prompt, to which you've given great meaning.

Debbie said...

this is a well thought out poem that gives an insightful picture of many elderly people.

Maggie said...

I may have lost my first comment. A sad and powerful piece, indeed.

Ann Grenier said...

It is amazing how you have so accurately and poignantly captured the long sad years of an elderly person. Excellent work, skillful words soliciting strong emotion.

Maude Lynn said...

Beautifully done.

Anonymous said...

A beautiful wistful verse-- the images are poignant.

Helena White said...

Oh..."forgotten in a world tucked away now"
Beautiful write...thank you for taking the time to visit...♥ ஆεlεɳa ~.^

Isabel said...

lovely imagery.

Jenn Bower said...

Oh wow. This is so movingly poetic and sad. What a compliment to the humbling image. The 4th verse, tragically poignant.

K McGee said...

Amazing photo and poem. Both insightful and respectful of the sadness that some will/do face as they grow older.

Anonymous said...

Petrina, this is so powerful. I worked as a nurse with the elderly and now as I approach that time in my own life I reflect so often on the helplessness that some experience. You portray this so well.

Steve Isaak said...

Solid work.