The Art Of Breaking Up Book > Write a poem inspired by a Break-Up - Poetry

Headless Swans of Chihuly

By Pickle_Blossom

"What could it be."

The glass chandelier above us
Caused illness to my ease
Awareness of my movement
Moved your eyes to see:
“Chihuly”

Elongated forms of twisting glass swirled round the color wheel haphazardly
“Overwhelming,” I said
and I cannot tell yet
if this thing has want 

of being.

If the pieces together fit or if it is meant to wrestle endlessly.”

And this sharp twisted glass could crash down on us, was the fear I did not speak.

And we walked onto stairs
And we went up

And up we went

Until the glass was not above me
And ease returned to me

The colors of the chandelier, dark beside the light
Speaking or speechless, the light sparked between us
But time filled too quickly
Security made us leave early
So we stepped back on the journey

And encountered the illness of ease

at the height hanging right 

in front of me


But lingered, we
By the stairs
We lingered
Not ready

To go down
Yet
Lingering
By the glass full of colors
And discussed a way to see the same thing

“Balloons,” I said, “twisted into animals. Incomplete. But: possibilities.”
And he waited
Waited, to interpret the glass catastrophe
Without deferring to me
“I see Swans,” he said, “graceful, but headless and dead. What could be… had been.”

“And snakes. That must be what got them. The lake wasn’t safe.”
There was fear in his face.
I took him by the hand and said
“Balloons.”
“Twist them just a tweak and they take their shapes. You can see they don’t have to be snakes.”

But a closer look he insisted I take
From the height I was nearly above it
Then he lifted me while I cried “Mercy.”
He balanced me high up in his hands
So I would see what he could see

And I did not fear the glass would fall on me, from the height at which he held me

Headless swans swam with snakes
The sight of his sight made my heart shake
And he took my motion for mistake
And from the height he held aloft


My body, mind and soul he dropped

But through the shock, I felt naught

As the glass broke under me
He descended to the street
And stepped onto the sea
Floating over the

Shards that enveloped me

With only the conclusion left to speak

“It was not meant to be.”

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Headless Swans of Chihuly

Created: Jul 19, 2010

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