Reminder
"You do not seem to understand,"
they'd say
"That rivers are wide,
and are not so easily crossed,
we fear, they are not as they appear.
They are not just squiggly blue lines of ink
as you would have us think."
"But are there not bridges?"
I would ask.
-and it would be a reminder.
"You do not seem to understand,"
they'd say
"That bridges are man's most
hair-brained invention, and
we take for granted their
convention. They just
barely hold our weight,
and furthermore, do not
always set our paths
as straight."
"But are they not forged in steel?"
I would ask.
-and it would be a reminder
"You do not seem to understand,"
they'd say.
"Once you cross your bridges,
you set them aflame,
and you cannot recross them,
and we are not to blame."
"But are they not forged in steel?"
I would ask, a little kinder...
But there would be no reply,
and it would be a reminder.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Reach for the clouds. . .
Tickle your toes. . .
-
driving home from the farmer's market- I can't see anything- through this storm- I come home to sleep- with you-rest in your arms fu...
-
like me- it serves as a question as well as an appropriately foolish letter in bad company it only teams up with words like yodel, ...
-
motionless sap. ogling your shadow, you have much thinking to do. has the potassium kicked you in the arse yet-and got you going? you a...
-
Under a blanket it was at high altitudes in love or nauseous? I once held his hand his touch was so soothing-but with a lion's face. and...
-
nipped at the ankles which is how I wander through life sometimes I must be pushed through a door finally opened after years of knock...
-
Tickling toes- there was something about that barefooted madness something about that wistful waist-high wishing and wooshing in the woods, ...
-
and now that the anger is gone there may be a few more glimpses like looking out of the window through a thin veil of silk. a look in...
-
confession is all: it is what my poetry is, and that is my life.
-
sex object. not afraid of the words. I've used many objects for the sake of sex. in fact my body has been pretty disposable- I don't...
-
it's not possible. I think the problem must be- too much love and hate.
ooh I like this. I love the idea of questioning what you're told (psh, you and I never do that!), and for providing a reminder when they throw something else back at you. I think the repetition and the bit of rhyme at the end are very effective, too. :-)
ReplyDeleteThanks Dana! Provincial people usually don't make for life-long friends. <3
ReplyDeleteThis is an exquisite piece of writing. The repetition in the poem works very well.
ReplyDeleteI love the part about the 'reminders'.
Brava!
Suzy, thank you. <3
ReplyDeleteAhhhh love it!
ReplyDelete"They just
barely hold our weight,
and furthermore, do not
always set our paths
as straight."
and
""Once you cross your bridges,
you set them aflame,
and you cannot recross them,
and we are not to blame.""
Are fantastic! Sometimes your insight boggles me!
You are my new best friend lol.
ReplyDeleteA great piece that is both literal and metaphorical. What's interesting to me is that both scenarios are gripping within the context of ignorant upbringing.
ReplyDeleteaw, Joel, thank you. <3
ReplyDelete