Idle A-While


We came out here
To this desolate beach
To idle a-while;
Escape the tyranny
Of ticking clocks
And forget the world
Forget the people
Close your eyes
Go insane
Disappear here
Into the prismatic
Of fading rainbows.

Well what you wish for,
What you dream of
I studied the signs
The seventh symbol
The ninth star
The nth degree
The cruciform sun
That radiates no light
Leeching colour away
While you cried
Over all the waifs
And wayward souls.

Over the centuries
We slowly ossified
While the world
Changed rapidly
Beyond recognition
And now out of touch
And out of time
I stand on the balcony
As the retreating figure
Waves goodbye
Even though she
Never said hello.


38 thoughts on “Idle A-While

    1. Usually if it is a poem or a story I will just tag the artist, if I writing about a particular painting or photograph or artist I will caption it. This is the American surrealist Kay Sage, I have done a post about her and also her husband Yves Tanguy. I thought the painting expressed the poem of the poem. Though I have been wrong before! Thank you for your kind comments

      Liked by 1 person

  1. Splendid poem Mr. Cake. “Idle A-While” reminds me of a wonderful vacation spot after the use of Napalm, completely desolate, bleak and lifeless. Really well done.

    The artwork you selected is perfect, “Leeching colour away”. As a side note, I happen to be quite fond of Kay Sage, my favorite painting is, “The Answer is No”.

    ~ Miss Cranes

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Thank you. Just opened up to it. This is just a thought, I notice that both Yves and Kay use intense light and intense shadow in their work. Which makes for a very otherworldly feel, which I quite like. Do you find this a coincidence or is it because they were husband and wife?

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      2. I think what attracted Kay and Yves to each other was their mutual scorched earth weirdness, they recognised each other and influenced each other. The air of otherworldliness and impending doom in their work is without parallel and it doesn’t feel forced.

        Liked by 1 person

  2. This looks a bit like The Atlantic City Boardwalk. An endless line of crumbling monuments. Exaggerated of course… There is a certain stark beauty in this painting, which the poem reflects perfectly. Nicely done, Night Manager!

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      1. I find myself thinking that Utopia might not be a very interesting place, actually… An individual’s view of paradise is unique, thus Utopia might be more of a state of mind. I ponder those questions the older I get. I spend a lot of time (maybe too much) in my own head, the way it is.

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  3. When I see the painting and then read the words this is what comes to mind. The world is over. We are done. There is no more time for all the bullshit. She knows this. The protagonist knows this. But somehow despite that moment of everything crashing down, they are further apart than ever. It begs the question … why? And that is what I appreciate most, that we are denied the explanation though you could say the detail might reveal it, our destiny to struggle to connect even with those we are mad about. Very well done almost like an apocalyptic shout.

    Liked by 1 person

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