Color Cannot Survive Comments

Rainbows dissappear, too.I must wait till the next one.

Fingers brush snow into my consciousness. sandraji, the above line sends chill one my spinal code.........

I found the imagery fragile and awesome at the same time. The intimacy of the tactile sense came through very strongly for me - fingers brush snow into my consciousness as did the gentle irony of the closing line. A beautiful and complex poem!

the setting colors of memories too have a beauty of their own but they won't survive long merging into the darkening shadows that fall on the mind's window blinds...you create a sad but sweet poetic atmosphere with your soft imageries, Sandra...well wrtten piece...10

For 27 years I lived with a man who always kept the curtains drawn. I fancied he must have been a mole in a previous life. In summer, his excuse was to keep the heat out. In winter, to keep the heat in. For some reason this poem reminds me of this man and his fear of life and the warmth and loyalty of his friendship and the brilliance of his mind. I was happy to 'suffer shadows gladly for (his) sake.' Your melancholy is always written with such warmth Sandra. This one touched me especially. love, Allie xxxx

A great coulourful tapestry interwoven with all the intangibles. Take care

You are artistic in so many ways. Also, your stanzas flow in the way no others I've read. GREAT READ!

a picture well written. a great poem.

marvelous indeed this expressive language.

Two minor qualms concerning this otherwise glorious imagistic piece were the phrases 'corners of my mind' and 'into my consciousness'. The opening stanza is practically flawless as many mental pictures popped into my melon. The second stanza, somewhat obscure in meaning, left me feeling a bit uneasy (perhaps your intention for the reader to thus be affected?) , but that decisive final line was the redemption factor.

Wonderful imagery. Great poem. Anjana

Complete and utter poetry. You weave words like silken cloth Sandra. Peace, Aisha

Wonderful imagery, beautiful and intelligent - what can I say? You know already it is superb - my favorite so far, and I'm up to number 10.

This is vividly written and evokes images to mind that are amazing. Thank you for sharing this with the world!

Oh, this really is wonderful Sandra! I love the line about gladly suffering shadows for his sake! Very nice. Sincerely, Mary

Wonderful, really moving, loads of colour added to my pallette.Love Duncan

This is very good, very poised. And congratulations on getting it published! This is what would nag at me if the poem were mine: The world is locked behind fringed window blinds. DO YOU MEAN BLINDS OR STORM WINDOWS? I'M NOT SURE HOW TO UNDERSTAND THE WORLD BEING LOCKED BEHIND BLINDS. IF YOU CAN'T SEE THROUGH THE BLINDS, THEN HOW DO YOU SEE ALL THAT YOU TALK ABOUT HERE? 'BLINDS' WOULD MAKE AN INTERESTING TITLE. 'COLOR CANNOT SURVIVE' IS A GREAT PHRASE BUT IT DOES COME CLOSE TO THE ACTUAL WISDOM OF THE POEM. Quiet monotones destabilize sunset. I LIKE DESTABILIZE! Color cannot survive this faltering warmth. I LIKE THIS TOO I suffer shadows gladly for your sake. WELL THIS COMES OUT OF NOWHERE UNLESS IT IS A REMARK OF THE DYING WARMTH. BUT IS VERY INTERESTING - BIBLICAL. EVEN. Your handsome touch intangible as smoke GOOD, GOOD... BUT THE 'YOUR' IS THE COLD? OR THE COLOR? Paints dusk into the corners of my mind. I DON'T LIKE 'THE CORNERS OF MY MIND' MAKES ME THINK OF WINDMILLS. Fingers brush snow into my consciousness. I DON'T LIKE 'INTO MY CONSCIOUSNESS' EITHER. POETS SHOULD NEVER HAVE TO SAY THAT SINCE POEMS EXIST ONLY IN CONSCIOUSNESS I THINK AT THIS POINT I'M A LITTLE SURE WHAT IS HAPPENING IN THE POEM. BUT I HAVE CONFIDENCE THAT YOU DO! Let us compare frost pictures for an hour. I WANT TO HAVE IT SAY 'LET'S' BECAUSE IT IS MORE OF A HORTITORICAL COMMAND, MORE... URGENT. THE POEM IS GREAT - THIS IS JUST WHERE MY REVISING HEAD GOES.

sandra, lovely poem, so sensitive to colours and evoking a deep romance through skillfully handled word pictures. give us more.

Beautiful melancholy. I especially loved the second line. Wonderful poem. Hugs Anna xxx

The whole world locked; so how can be the colour run away? At the fading dusk my heart laments for the bygone days and you leave me somberness! I embraced the entire poem Sandra.