The Watcher Poem by Daniel Brick
The Watcher
Don't worry about me. I'm content
to sit on his hard bench,
beneath this metal awning, on which
occasional raindrops tap a broken rhythm.
I look out into a gray harbor at the edge of
a gray sky. The uniform gray doesn't
disappoint me, because I sense the glow
of an interior light perfectly pitched
for an age in which DESPAIR and HOPE
are entangled in each other's features.
How can we tell if the grimace we saw
this morning belongs to hope or despair?
And that laughter we hear at nightfall,
is that hope playing the fool to entertain us,
or is it despair giving vent to a final tirade
before surrendering to silence? I cannot tell.
But it is my mission to be the one who watches,
and when I learn to untangle these complicated
features, all of us will benefit. Until that
knowledge is mine, I will sit here, night after
night, empowered by the dark, and day after
day, empowered by the light.
Part 1 occasional raindrops tap a broken rhythm. The poet start opening his poem with a distinct poetic and philosophical phrases in order to ask ourselves and respond at the same time about the meaning of despair and hope in our life and sometimes we see it in the dark or light, day and night, summer and winter etc....
part 2 this deep poem has several connotations and different interpretations, it is a universal poem in its close relationship with each of us as a human being whether we lived east or west Thus, the poet has found the true language of immortal poetry..well done excellent poem deserves 10/10
A mesmerizing piece of writing. You truly are a watcher of life and have seen its myriads of shades n hues. The reader can only benefit from ur deep observation n insight. You make us sink into the sea of ur words.10
I love your image of readers sinking into sea of words! What a validation of the works of composing poetry. I feel close to this character: I sense that I am perhaps this watcher. If I can't stop the suffering of people, at least I can witness it and pay homage to the victims.
How can we tell if the grimace we saw this morning belongs to hope or despair? - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - But it is my mission to be the one who watches, - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Until that knowledge is mine, I will sit here, night after night, empowered by the dark, and day after day, empowered by the light. - - - - - -
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
5/6/2024 10:20:41 AM # 1.0.0.1119
How can we tell if the grimace we saw this morning belongs to hope or despair? And that laughter we hear at nightfall, is that hope playing the fool to entertain us, or is it despair giving vent to a final tirade before surrendering to silence? I cannot tell.