The Primitive Streak


January 4, 2017 by petrujviljoen


Artwork image copyright Petru J Viljoen

I can’t see it. The love that is. It’s probably
my fault. Too engrossed with the shadow-
play on the walls of my skull.

An inner life?

While waiting.

or insight if you will, is elusive.
Here you have it. See? Here it is. This
is what it is. This is what it’s like
then the light changes and

it is gone.

Some unseen, unknown,
unrealised aspect of the self-
same void revealed …





Linked to Dverse Poets

21 thoughts on “The Primitive Streak

  1. Insight that becomes a whisper and then silence…is it lost or just buried somewhere deep, waiting for it’s time to resurface? Who knows. Love the poem. Thoughtful piece.

  2. Raivenne says:

    For whatever reason, I cannot see the accompanying artwork. For me, it made your lines all the more poignant. Especially “The shadow -play on the walls of my skull.” it is such an evocative line, the fleetingness of it .

  3. julespaige says:

    Do our words reveal our inner self? Mostly I find that others find more than what I put in…
    I like your placement of the stones. The large one to the left reminds me of an ear.
    Maybe we need to listen and hear ourselves more?

    Thanks for stopping by. Hope to see you at Quickly’s.

  4. lillian says:

    Interesting artwork to accompany your words. Perhaps we must learn to seek new beginnings within the shadows….sometimes the most precious is not in the open and takes a bit more effort to find.

  5. maria says:

    Deep thoughts..

  6. C.C. says:

    Shadow play on the walls of your skull? That is such a unique and interesting way to describe it, to word it. Fascinating.

  7. Grace says:

    It is elusive and the pursuit is never done and over ~ Thanks for sharing your reflection ~

  8. Waltermarks says:

    That’s an interesting abstract photo. To me it looks like the inner workings of someone’s mind, the pieces on the ends as ears. It goes very well with your verse, the self same unrealized …

  9. I can see it: Rocks as ears, of course, but also inside the cell of one’s skull, ephemeral—never long enough to self-congratulate—interpretations of the ever-changing shadows. Plato plus Freud, I believe. Good work.

  10. How futile if can be to find a new beginning, when it just flashes by and then is gone… maybe we have to find the lesser shadow rather than a sunlit path… in the long run it might help.

  11. Glenn Buttkus says:

    Your own artwork works well too, as you soar out of the box & beyond the prompt, I love the white light vibe of this piece, where sardonic turns gentle, where shards of hope spill through lace & bone, where existential angst finds fecund hugs. I like your lines /too engrossed with the shadow-/play on the walls of my skull/.

    • Thank you! I wrote in a daze of insomnia early this morning and realised only later the disjointedness of this piece. Love your comment, sheer inspiration all by itself, seeing things I had no idea were there.

  12. Kathy Reed says:

    Nice…organic take on how our stream of thought flows and stops…

  13. Sumana Roy says:

    i like that revelation for a split second….

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