as I left the waterfront
and I climbed up the sandy stair
as always his brothers were
first; to greet me.
I've had past dealings with them,
both had crossed a similar line in the sand;
but in their own way.
Their wives, his sisters, have gone missing,
but something within me knows they are close by
as I can smell something cooking, and looking
I know the children are taken care of.
fresh from his brother's sins against me,
I was wary; but they greeted me; lovingly.
this must be a dream
As always when I wander through this familiar maze
I find my least favorite room.
And once I am there,
something backs me against
the wall
the wall with the window,
the wall with the window that looks out on the waters.
Some heavy weights have slipped inside my shoes
they, as the others do, detain me, refrain me,
they know he will soon be showing himself.
And now there is nothing to prevent it.
Like a lifesaver I am buoyant as always and tough as hard candy
I am impatiently waiting to sweeten your presence.
And I am not afraid of you.
this must be a dream.
I can smell, and taste, his entrance
it is indigo...it is salty and wet
It is brisk and mellow.
I am not afraid.
I can feel the cool mist of his tears
They are first, on my cheeks, but then
my palms and fingers are drenched.
“I cannot stay, for you,” I say as I look out on those waters
and it suddenly occurs to me, I have no inclination as to why
I am even there, at all.
Something about presents for his mother.
this must be a dream.
His response does not frighten me.
I am seduced with a sense of pity.
He is forgiving and forgiven.
His tongue moves slowly like the lapping waves.
There are no words, of course,
but I feel something deep and steady
suddenly wash over me.
eventually my eyes, half open, allow in some light.
the walls around me have failed
my sisters at present, guide me out onto an ivory sloop
and they whisk me away--
Thursday, June 16, 2011
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Reach for the clouds. . .
Tickle your toes. . .
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there ain't no other place like you to roam. where I dug in my heels and said "No, I won't come home!" Dancing in the warb...
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RICK: Hey Rick? DICK: Yea, Dick? RICK: See that sky roll on by? (points) DICK: ...Oh, my... RICK: Don't i-t'almost makes yer wanner....
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hunger is sometimes preferable to loneliness. a stomach will twist- but hands become dirty and heavy when full of coins.
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Another Indian woman living on our block has hair swept back and braided has jeweled toes, is in all yellow traditional regalia, and walks w...
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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...
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Out the window, I thought I saw Emily pale, gawking. a green T-shirt. bouncing firey springs on her head.
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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, ...
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In my dreams I am the fictional version of myself. The one I seek to be in my short-stories and prose. The one who gets her point across but...
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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...
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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...
The intensity and intimacy of this piece compel the reader to continue on, despite questions left unanswered and allusions unexplained. Very mysterious, this one!
ReplyDeleteReally intriguing - dream images float and merge weaving a world for the observer to explore. I enjoyed reading. :-)
ReplyDeleteAn intricately woven poem, mysterious, leaving me a bit unsettled wondering, but a strong write!
ReplyDeletethanks all! :)
ReplyDeleteOh, I love this! So many great metaphors and lines -- I especially like "Like a lifesaver I am buoyant as always and tough as hard candy." Well done!
ReplyDeleteA poem that seemed to engage all my senses, and left me a little dazed at the unanswered questions...in other words, a wonderful read!
ReplyDelete:)
ReplyDeleteBeautiful and haunting; you had me engaged and then the mystery of the reality had me surface with questions. Well Done~
ReplyDeleteI wrote a series of color poems (The Rest Of The Rainbow) that included one about Indigo, but mine was much more literal (about the color) than your interesting piece here. :)
ReplyDeleteLove them!
ReplyDelete