I walked those groundsnot in twenty years
sacred in my mind
those ten years
I did
To think of your tears
caused by me
upon a place I love
so far from home
is more
than I can bear
How can I hug
through the miles
of distance
How can I wipe tears
I can't reach
or know
how your heart beats
when I can't hear
my own
the beat is so loud
sigh
So, I toss words
into the well of you
hoping to hear an echo
a sound that tells
me you hear
my heart
you accept my little
pebbles
and treasure them
as I did
in the selecting
in the tossing
in the hope
of a heart
reaching
tremulous
My parchment bleeds
mixing with tears
running letters
a blurry mess
of thoughts slipping
into puddles
of breath escaping
in gulps
of a head spinning
faint
I don't hear your words
no more than I hear the knife
plunging into my chest
and ripped forth
I see them
Crystal clear
my movie HD
wrapping
suffocating
memories evoked
pain rising
from the depths
long since
sunk
buried
gone
or
so I thought
I didn't ask for this
nor this poem
It lives in your breath
uttered urgent
to have
the pain
confusion
codified
Will you cry anew
tears hoarded
hidden
behind lies
deception
a life lived in shadows
of faded dreams
and tattered hopes
a cruel mess
seductive
pulling
a private
quicksand
I reach forth across time
stepping over the chasm
of a life lived in flashes
of late night doors
of breath not fresh
of sheets torn
and what is taken
is more than flesh
more than the wet pillow
the sniffles snuffled
the words swallowed
the anger suppressed
a bitter cocktail
forced
of hair yanked
of dead eyes
Upon this soil
faint
I can see it
I can feel it
alive still
and I know
I know
what must be done
the road that must be travelled
I have no choice
as sun to flower
as water to world
as the fruited teat
to cries in the dark
I am pulled
narrow my vision
to pour myself
into
a vase
empty
a vase
beautiful
a vase
I
can
flower
and
make
smile
again
2 comments:
Grand in many more ways than one.
I walked those grounds
not in twenty years
sacred in my mind
those ten years
I did
At once, in those very first lines an overpowering aura of reminiscence arises. So compelling from those very first words, you capture the imagination, cause a fluttering in the heart, of anticipation, trepidation, the tone remarkably suggestive of the yet unspoken.
To think of your tears
caused by me
upon a place I love
so far from home
is more
than I can bear
Stirring. Thought-provoking, a journey destined never to arrive at a destination, and a simultaneous and great appreciation of how one can have very little to do with the other. The pleasure is in the journey, a delicious process, process is how I would describe it, that one enters into upon, glimpses, wonders about, a dozen possible scenarios that these words could mould themselves to. These words, so poignant and suggestive, capture and rouse, fantasy and memory, twining, increasing impact. Your words on regret, of how debilitating, unbearable pain caused can be are, smooth, sheer, perfect.
How can I hug
through the miles
of distance
How can I wipe tears
I can't reach
or know
how your heart beats
when I can't hear
my own
the beat is so loud
The longing for what is not possible is so readable. Not even having the opportunity to soothe, to make amends for hurt caused, to be the source, to know it, regret it, to bear it with the only thing worse than seeing another's tears being the inability to, to be removed.
sigh Alone. Outstanding. Elongated, light in lower case letters, heavy in significance, volume and area. It also works as a threshold, the edge of the mountain, a place once trespassed there will be no return, as with the opening lines of the poem, the sense of this being a hole into which one will fall, if one reads it all, is solid. Not a black hole of nothingness, but of falling so deep into the emotions expressed without resolution, so it seems, there, upon the breath of a sigh, a sense that what follows may be so vivid, so encompassing, coming back there from may not be easy, affect may stay.
So, I toss words
into the well of you
hoping to hear an echo
a sound that tells
me you hear
my heart
you accept my little
pebbles
and treasure them
as I did
in the selecting
in the tossing
in the hope
of a heart
reaching
tremulous
The first three lines of this part are the chosen ones if needs were that such a task be done. I could read those lines over and over and relish them as much. For the expression and for the very real echo, the calling, without thinking to describe something akin to the message in a bottle passage if I remember correctly, it echoes through life, moments, memories, past the point of no return, of relationships and conversations and of wondering whether there are echoes out there, vibrations of sound that will never reach the ears that they are meant for, but meant all the same. Not sure how else to describe the poignancy of these words, the thoughts that it stirs, nor the emotion, it sweeps across every meditation that one could have upon life (that is my hypothesis anyway, since neither time nor every thought is mine), a Rome-expression, in the incorporating, all roads leading to, sense. May have to come back to this one. And I shall, for as with another poem recently, so consuming is what has been read so far, pause seems necessary in order to give proper attention to what follows.
Ms Storm, let me just say this. I enjoy your comments more than I know to say. They are like movies and I want to grab my popcorn and coke, settle in, and discover what you have uncovered in a work I thought I knew. If I may be so bold: Wow! :-D
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