Hover
February 24, 2011
The words
somehow lead
the way,
slipping down
steep banks
of desire
and longing
and the wish that wasn’t there
after all.
This ink
runs before me
on yellow pages lined
like roads that take me
forever nowhere
While slivers of dark
diamond eyes
Peer through the trees
watching;
their mangled tents
lining the streets
like beggars hoping for
a holy word:
Go and sin no more.
Dry empty clouds
hover;
a blanket of warm air
falling all over me
like a blessing.
Image by Nance
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That’s one beautiful poem, Brad.
this one steals the heart from my chest
plays with it for awhile like a cat with a mouse
then it puts it back
not at all the same as it was
I’ve read and reread.
Brad ~ this is really really good. Just. wow.
more please.
This was like its own poem. I liked it so much…
“This ink
runs before me
on yellow pages lined
like roads that take me
forever nowhere”
Oh.
“…and the wish that wasn’t there
after all.”
Oh. That thought is going to rumble around in my mind for days…I can tell.
Thank you.
Why are the clouds dry and empty? That part makes me sad. But then you turn them into a warm blanket and I feel the good there.
This is so beautiful–bittersweet.
I don’t know why the clouds are dry and empty. I write these sometimes late at night, before bed, so it comes out mostly as free-form subconscious blather that really turns out to be so much more substantial the next day. Actually, that is precisely what this poem is about — the yellow lines, the writing of the words, not sure where they are going to take me… And the dark side, peering from the edges, waiting to attack, or wanting something.
So I would say the dry empty clouds are the lack of understanding I have regarding the meaning at the time, but it eventually all covers me and makes sense in the end. (not unlike my rambling right now!)