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| The Fall of Icarus, 1975 Marc Chagall © |
I've imagined
at times what now is
going into the next now
as if I was Sylvia
guttural crawling
from marriage
to bone marrow
wanting ...
behind this red door
I am hauling my ass
into my soul of a poem
where am I
who am I ...
am I you again
Ted looking when
an embraceable me
says I am dead my dearest
blessedly being
a live wearing
of worn
shorn words
hawk overhead ...
am I just
a few memories
I've clutched
in desperation
what is going
to keep me
from saying goodbye
in some language or another
I've imagined was necessary
at the time to stave off
my departure ...
we sew life after life
artist lie after artist lie
into truth we worship
sacred tide and sand
mountain and rain
a wax and feather routine
we'll pause and stop a moment
to remember ourselves
and guillotine's never clean
but when we die unseen
we go back to the sea
we find ourselves
islands again
poems
paper
pen ...
perhaps on the other side
we'll still be poets
lonely and looking
for what companions
can complete us
somewhere between
caretaker and a lover
we lean
into not caring
at how high we were
flying towards the Sun
when a moonlit night
would have done
what we needed to ...
EJR ©
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ReplyDeletethe grave gravity of love grabs at me and says look into how a story weaves your parts in colored thread ... landscapes and lives, spools waiting the loom ... thank you
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ReplyDeletegreat love survives the temporary shelter of its host body ...
Deleteflying towards the Sun
ReplyDeletewhen a moonlit night
would have done
what we needed to ...
s moonlit night a tango of two hearts - will we still be poets, will we still be looking for that one love we could never let go?
gee, I think I am weeping...touching a chord deep inside of me here...
sometimes I think when we fly straight to the heart of our matter(s) we need to feel the falling in order to know flying isn't always an ascension ... sometimes the gritty goo beneath the surfaces of our visages, are the greatest womb/loves of them all ... thanks for stopping in ...
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DeleteYou are very perceptive and sometimes we need to fall to know what it really means to fly. To truly experience the flights in life wings or no wings. It's about the journey not necessary the flight.
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