Trev's first attempt to put into words what his lips could not say. Translated from the original Hynerian.
When the night falls
and the stars shine
there is a stillness in the air
the day exhaling
The pause is purple
and breath will come
the intake cold
the pain unavoidable
My lips are dry
with words not said
of thoughts not understood
of wishes on fallow ground
The wind rises
blowing my hair
and the wishes as dandelions
into a darkness I cannot stop
My tongue, calf swollen
fills my mouth
sloth-like, not moving
languid, salted, silent
I watch the moon rise
reflected in roses
calm, peaceful
the light burns my ears
Words are hurled
as bats from a cave
flying every which way
and I feel as tied to a stake
My wrists burn
in the sweated effort
to say what I can't
to know what only baffles me
And I watch you reach
for me, a hand dear
reaching, reaching, knocking
unanswered
11 comments:
I H DT a little more for each chapter and before it arrives I cannot imagine H'ing DT any more than I already do, but I do. :-) In a word, excellent. Back asap, x
As always, Ms Storm, you are very kind. Thank you. :-)
James Earl Jones is accredited with having said; "One of the hardest things in life is having words in your heart that you can't utter." This could be interpreted in a variety of different ways but the essential idea remains true. These may not be the words (yet) that Trev could not speak when he stood before Em, but they are expressive albeit expressing his inability to say what he really wants to say and coming before what comes after, it emerges as a warm-up so to speak, as though in staying with this for a spell, accepting that his words are stuck allows them to be unleashed. His distress at not having been able to meet Em's question with anything but silence is communicated so beautifully here. Trev obviously has a talent for expression when his capabilities are not hindered, phrases like 'The pause is purple' and 'the wishes as dandelions' to mention but two are entirely lovely.
Trev sure isn't easy, bless his heart, but there is promise, lots of it, that he will find his way, his words, and in time. Fabulous chapter. :-)
Trev has a voice when alone he cannot find with others. The question, perhaps, is how does Em view these missives? He writes a ton of them, slipping them under her door. It has been some time and she has said nothing. So, one could question whether she has gotten any of them or whether someone else might be intercepting them and keeping them from her. Just a thought. ;-)
"to know what only baffles me"
Lovely.
"The pause is purple"
Please explain this to me...it sounds beautiful.
I find a real intenseness building inside of me. :-)
Very nicely written!
p.s. sorry, i made a big typo so i deleted the comment previous to this one.
Kimmie, as the day exhales and the sky makes the transition to dusk, almost as if waving goodbye to the blue of the day while welcoming the inky darkness of the night, in that moment between the two, when the sky seems purple, the day exhales, pauses for a moment in wistful remembrance of the day that was. And this is what Trev is doing. He projects himself upon the sky or one could say personifies the sky as his alter ego. :-D
Hope that helps. And thanks for asking. I love explaining stuff like this. :-)
Morning Jen. Oh how I wish I knew the answers to the things that baffle me. In fact, I just wish I knew all the things I don't know that baffle me. Just not to be ignorant about my own ignorance would be a joyous thing. :-D
Thank You Tr'ee...I could envision it as you described it for me. And I must say, I believe I have witnessed a purple sky on more than one occasion. I must admit, it is difficult to catch that transition, but when I do, it is truly magnificant.
Having read every poem that Trev has written since this one and the immensity of all that has been said as one has been followed by another, I suspected that coming back to the beginning would individualize the poem, that in reading it now having read all that came after it would seem as a piece of the larger whole rather than whole within itself if that makes sense, but that isn't the case at all, just as with your chapters, though there be those leading up to and those that came after, in themselves they occupy the entire universe. Reading, reading you, leaves no room in the moment for the rest of the world, your words submerge us within, and I think about how close we are able to get to another, I think about the people that I have been close to, so close I could imagine that I knew almost everything about them, so close their joy need not be seen to be known, their pain unspoken as though it were mine too, in short as close as it is possible to get and yet, I wonder were I to profess that as one sits with your characters, with Von as he confessed to Kyra, with John as he stood before the mirror, with Trev as he unfolds in these poems, that in those moments another's heart has rarely felt as relinquished would that divulge a lack or would it as is my hope and intention affirm matchless the emotion that you convey and that you elicit within your writing is. I know it to be the second, for I see the same response, the same recognition of the power, the same appreciation of the supreme, extraordinary quality that you deliver, consistently, in comments left, and I realize it is the hugeness that makes one question, could it really be so, that writing can reach these heights, that the touch within, as though it were heart to heart, for all the intrusion, for the acknowledgement that never shall we meet, talk, communicate, connect, is felt so profoundly, only to understand anew that proximity and time can have very little to do with how another may impact upon us, for the same reason there was a bursting, lasting joy when that autistic smokin' young man shot one basket after another, for the same reason that tears can be shed for unknown, unnamed strangers, and with every chapter, with every word that shows us more of the core of your characters, along with clearer (affecting), they become dearer. Double impact on every page. Life is seldom so intense, how would we cope otherwise. Not sure my point comes across, and not sure this is any better, but each chapter is watching you wash dishes.
edits
affirm how matchless the emotion...
and this part, in case it is as unclear as I believe, is in regard to character and reader
for the acknowledgement that never shall we meet, talk, communicate, connect, is felt so profoundly
This may need a part B instead. :-)
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