. . . at My Old Window Pane

Updated on February 12, 2018
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Kenneth, loves satire and writings to spotlight others, but he also has an "addiction" so to speak, to dramatic and abstract/prose poetry.

I gave my beauty away . . .
I gave my beauty away . . . | Source

Life, I'm wondering now, is all that was all I had in me?

All that I gave to others--some had fathers and mothers

But now at deserted window, I stand, so look at me

See through me, know me, just like the few that bothered.

Glancing toward life itself through my window pane.

When little steps took me to this widow sash

Wondering at ants, bugs, that I had to reason

I stood in happy times--at the bugs, I never mashed.

In Christmas here, a birthday there, just another season.

Passin' through my window pane.

In youth, my laughing, at silky things and garden swings

Hiding from a shadow of dragon fly's wings

Hearing my mother's Irish Lullabyes sings.

I'd stand not moving a muscle--not one hair.

Desperately clinging to silent life in the crack of my window pane.

My lovers were few and I was soon broken

Nothing from dark alley is free.

Seeing then that my love was just a token

And lay down quiet so I could see.

Wondering who sees in my window pane.

Passing by in shadows in my window pane.

Soft is the bajou's lure--while skeleton's dig for sudden cute

Watching the sparkle of birth, life, death and unknown

Valley's low on universe shine for failing perfume, it mutes.

I've always been unknown and never known

Always from the groan, always shunning the throne.

Bowing in my window pane

Crying silently in my window pane

Through my parlors, my animals sing

Through my dungeons, I believe

In rainfall letting go of life's flash swing

I thinks I'm failing, falling much rather to leave.

I gave away my beauty, voodoo charm, twinkle of eye

Feeling the stalking death's callus sting.

I am a woman, not werewolf, standing in sty.

Older years taught me care, joy, when babies ring.

I only stood from the rain

Kissing my old window pane.


this exercise in Abstract/Prose delves into two equal dimensions. One with natural life as we know it, the other yet to live. I am not your judge and certainly not your guide. Peace. Be at home before twilight.

© 2018 Kenneth Avery


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    • kenneth avery profile image

      Kenneth Avery 5 weeks ago from Hamilton, Alabama

      Hi, Robin -- a Sincere Thank You for the Analogy and Metaphor that with the grace of God, I spotted in your comment.


      Write me anytime.

    • kenneth avery profile image

      Kenneth Avery 5 weeks ago from Hamilton, Alabama

      threekeys -- seeing your name in a comment box on a piece that I have labored for hours to complete, well, threekeys, you make my small work possible.


      I mean to take a Hub-Tour soon and visit your place.

      Please pray for me.

    • kenneth avery profile image

      Kenneth Avery 5 weeks ago from Hamilton, Alabama

      Hi, John -- dear friend, ally, thank you so very much for being "that" beacon in the darkness when I find no light to see. Someday I should explain these off-the-cuff comments.

      Truthfully, I am in need of a cup of coffee. Several, indeed.

      Write me anytime.

    • faith-hope-love profile image

      John Ward 5 weeks ago from Richmond, British Columbia, Canada.

      Good piece of prose to touch the spirit. A Valuable and great wisdom in prose. Thank you greatly. Paxe et Bonum. John W

    • RobinReenters profile image

      Robin Carretti 5 weeks ago from Hightstown

      What deeply spoken words to touch your inner soul you really brought the cracks and define lines to the old window Pane and the photo I love so much

    • profile image

      Threekeys 5 weeks ago

      Your poem transported me to the shop windows where many females sell sex in Amsterdam.

      Enjoyed the duality. Peace to You Kenneth