In the Reel
Flicker on the screen,
the film feeds through the machine
in a stuttered flow;
the cinema is starting up the show.
The fluid motions play on the screen
in a serene blur of the artist's dreams:
the comedies, the tragities, the pristine themes,
the flawless and the fantastic dazzled my eyes for decades.
Yet when the falling sun
spreads the shadows to blanket the sky,
I pull the blinds and put on the stop-motion show.
Every picture is something I've once known,
every tiny detail is put before me
as a trial of what was really real.
The vivid depictions of the pictures
bring up whats been pushed into the black:
remembering the things I'll never have back.
Each photo brings a memory
of merth and marriment,
turned soul in my soul
by the cruelty of misplaced time.
I keep watching, keep reliving,
until I feel myself become unreal,
detached from anything outside the reel.
When the show has run its course
I can feel the stings of remorse
replace the taste of sweetness
with bitterness that bites to the bone.
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Submitted on April 16, 2016
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 55 sec read
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Quick analysis:
Scheme | AABBACCX XXBDEFXGGEXXXXFFHHXD |
---|---|
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 984 |
Words | 181 |
Stanzas | 2 |
Stanza Lengths | 8, 20 |
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"In the Reel" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 31 Oct. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/75300/in-the-reel>.
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