revision:
I stood there
waiting for the world
to crumble beneath my feet.
It was about time
I rejoined my roots.
My mother handed me
a Bible;
she counted rosary beads,
making pit stops
at every Lord’s prayer—
I joined her,
fumbling with words,
fighting to keep my eyes closed.
With her shaking voice,
I could sense
her visions of purgatory—
the fireless un-suffering,
and waiting for some door to open.
I’ve spent too much time
trampling on gravity,
obeying what I never had the chance
to ask what for.
It was about time
I slept inside the magnet,
instead of feeling its restrictions
numbing my feet.
I waited for the fault lines,
crawling, gnawing dust,
spitting muddy waters.
I know when we’re taught to pray for heaven,
we’re obligated to long for eternal rest,
but my concept of heaven is
Continuity,
returning to the myth
of clay, carved in the likeness
of the Greater Entity,
coming back to where
S/He dug me from.
***
original version:
I stood there
waiting for the world
to crumble beneath my feet.
It was about time
that I rejoin my
roots.
My mother handed me
a Bible;
she said the rosary
and with her eyes closed,
I could see her visions
of purgatory
the fireless un-suffering,
and waiting for some door
to open.
I've been too cooped up
in gravity for too long.
It was about time
I sleep inside its magnet,
instead of feeling its restrictions
numbing my feet.
I wait for the fault lines,
crawling, gnawing dust,
spitting muddy waters.
I know when they wish for heaven,
they wish for eternal rest.
But I know when I wish for heaven
I wish for continuity,
coming back to the myth
of clay, carved in the likeness
of the bigger Entity,
coming back to where
S/He dug me from.
Author notes
thanks to Jonathan for critiques. 
Written August 4th, 2005
What did you think
Comments
1 - 7 of 7
-
I loved this, it flows nicely and kind of trips along with the imagination in tow. Excellent write!!
-
S/He .. reminds of the Saul Williams book. Thank you so much for entering this poem in my contest. I'm intrigued with your work ..
Opening two stanzas .. really really good. Really. Actually all of it is good. I stumbled a bit on the too cooped up stanza ..
But you come back in the end .. back to the beginning so beautifully.
I appreciate your taking the time to enter my contest. I'm stumbling around tonight attempting to make my decisions. Too many good poems and not enough colored cups on pedestals. But whatever way it turns I want you to know, I'm impressed.
Thanks.
Lisa
-
I'm not being modest. I just happened to have lost a literary contest at school, haha. I'm not bitter, I just know that if ever I try submitting for publications here, I'm going into stiff competition. There are lots more worthy than me.
thanks for the comment.
Kannika -
Ha, don't be so modest. undyinglazarus is right. Publish them... so I can go buy it
Great poem, as usual.
Elizabeth -
I really enjoyed this one....The first stanza just kinda grabs you and from there it becomes a really nice piece of writing. Gret job.
-
thanks so much for the comment. this was very rough, so I might consider revising it some more, especially with regards to your being lost on the I persona's mother's vision of purgatory and the I persona's vision of gravity.
Publication, eh? Er, right. thanks for the suggestion, though. I might actually try. But not for now.
-
Amazing
You have a very sophisticated style, you might consider publication. I absolutely adore creation myths, usually the ones involving mud children placed in the heat to dry. This is largely due to the fact that as a child I molded mud people and placed them on the roof to dry. Love the use of negatives in your description of purgatory as "a fireless un-suffering." Love how the first stanza gains greater meaning upon a second reading. I was a bit lost in the transission between your mother's vision of purgatory and your vision of gravity, but that was just sloppy reading on my part. Thanks for sharing this.
Adding your comment:
1 - 7 of 7
3 old applause
