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"Until Then"


















      you preach, arms open
        embracing. old, somehow
        like an emblem, worn
          away by
            greed
                and
                  malice
              and ...
          you unravel yourself,
            thread by thread
            ('till nothing's left)
              you light the fire.
              you go,
                crispy and crackling
                roaring a lion-
                  colored flame
                filling the sky
                  with diamonds
                  (and earth
                    quakes).
                your legacy
                is a long one,
              told from large and
              small mouthes,
              cherry-covered.
                your story fills
                these hills
                (and secrets eat
                  in shallow bowls
                  the cereal of God).
              there are groans
                from your grave,
              coffin laughs
                and clementine
                      breezes
                you whisper
                  your knowledge
                on the
                    wintery
                      wind
                    causing
              snow flakes
              to flicker
              and fly
                away.
          (on the day
          you were
            burried,
          earth shook
          her fists.
          the rain
            fell in
          rainbow
          splatters,
      like angry
          artists (God)
        with arthritis
        were trying
          to paint
          the sun.
        earth sang
          an old hymnal
          over the hole
            they made to
            put you in.
        you used to
          love
          that ho-hum
            hymnal,
          in your low
            rumbling
            baritone,
          you'd speak
          the language
            of your
              soul.
      (earth knew,
        and that is
          why
          her voice
            filled the
            hollow chasms
              with promising
              echoes
                of life)
        we all brought
              flowers,
          a funny gift
            now that
            I think about
                it.
            we put them
            next to the
                dirt
                raising
              our hands
                to heaven,
                  like you once
                    did,
              and praying
                for grace
              and peace
              and communists.
                the preacher
                  man
                he spoke slow
                  and free,
                  and the
                bucket rain
                came down
                thick as mud.
                    earth and i
                    held schoolgirl hands,
                      sowing our fingers
                          together
                            in an effort to
                                  stay real.
                      preacher man
                        called us over.
                        you looked out
                          at us
                          with glass
                            eyes,
                            still full of
                                blue.
                        we said our
                              good byes,
                            like roses,
                          and preacher
                            man
                            closed your
                                  eyes.
                              earth and
                              i
                              lowered
                                you
                                down
                            the hole. you
                              never looked so
                              dead, covered
                                in brown
                                flakes of
                                  eternity
                            (us singing "hallelujah").
                            a couple of the
                              guys
                            threw shovels
                              of the stuff
                            over your
                            box,
                          and that was
                              the end.
                          (flowers faded in a
                            couple weeks.
                              so did
                                  we)  )
                        the snow
                          flakes
                          are coming
                            faster now,
                            holding the
                              whole world
                              in a wide
                                white
                                  embrace.
                            (you sat
                                transfixed
                                and we gazed,
                                      imobile,
                                  and love
                                    was there)
                            the snow
                                  numbs
                                      my nose;
                                        it is
                                            time.


      we try
        every
            day,
              but with
                each day
                  it gets
                    harder.
                      earth and i
                        made a
                          pact
                            to never
                              grow older,
                                but i'm   
                                  not so sure
                                  she'll keep it
                                    (one day
                                        I'll see
                                            you
                                        again,
                                          and we'll
                                              kiss,
                                              like
                                              old friends,
                                                and by
                                                  that time
                                                      I
                                                        will be
                                                              happy)
























     

Author notes

(4)


I am p b without the j.
Except the thing is, I think I like j again.

A contest entry

If you think, please tell me what it's like.

    : , Your review:

    Comment Suggestion: What is your your first impression?
    Line numbers  • Invite them to read
    : no Cost: 0 free left 0 points, You have (?)

Comments

1 - 9 of 9
  • i love your style of writing! you just really keep me going.......... this is great!


  • Macey Muse
    April 3, 2007
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    Ack. Why are you not on my favorites list, again? *wanders off to remedy that*

    Just. Twisty yet clear, with so many images and connections - neurons firing all over the place - and I really admire the way you can just take us outside ourselves for a walk through your poetry.


  • Amicus2K9
    March 18, 2007

    Edit | Reply

    Butter,Butter, Peanut Butter...

    I used to make my children lunch, from time to time, but not just a PB&J slapped on slices of bread, thick butter on each slice, the edges trimmed and quartered; now my daughters make the same sandwich for my grandchildren.

    I am surmising you witnessed a funeral or had a friend tell you, or maybe even just a film version of same, keyed your thoughts...I speculate...

    And you ran with it, and oh, my, how you ran. I stayed with you through each line, although I found the format trying, it was, after all, effective as I was compelled to read on.

    Deep, powerful, profound, sensitive, hopeful, fearful, you put it all in there.

    Thank you.

    amicus...



  • PersephoneInWinter
    March 17, 2007
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    wow. im so glad i can see your poetry again. wow. this is one of my favorites. the whole imagery and the senario is amazing and deep and pretty all at the same time. i like the form, and like blacknight said, it is like riding on a slide; and i like that.
    *adds to list of favorite poems*


  • Rainbow-High
    March 16, 2007

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    I loveddd the structure and tone of this poem. I also really liked the references to god and how descriptive this entire poem is. Great Job and good luck in the contest!

  • miSSareY
    March 16, 2007
    Edit | Reply
    so glad to see a new piece.


  • -BlackKnight- gold member
    March 16, 2007

    Edit | Reply
    Well, I definitely don't think, so I can't say what that's like, but I can definitely say what this poem is like:

    It feels like one of those big, turny-twisty-loopy water slides at those amusement parks, the ones you ride down while sitting on some big inflatable plastic donut. You slide down, down, down, but unlike one of the slide itself when you crash-land into some big pool of chlorine and water, this doesn't end on a some big, explosion-y finale; it ends quietly and still manages to imbed itself all up in your nose and whatnot and you don't even see it coming until it happens and then you're stuck wondering what just did happen, and that's really, REALLY hard to do and you did it so well here. I'M SO JEALOUS!!!11!!111!1!!11

    But anyway, yeah, this was pretty damn good, and it's neat to see you depart from your normally mile-long lines, which are also pretty damn awesome and filled with coolness and stuff.


  • Kendall Campbell
    March 16, 2007

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    If your going to revert back to the j, might I suggest crabapple?

    With that said, I think you're one of the few modern day writers who can/do write on such a large scale well. I don't think I've ever read anything by you under 100 lines, and typically it would be filler, but you manage to add something time and time again.

    "the rain
    fell in
    rainbow
    splatters,
    like angry
    artists (God)
    with arthritis
    were trying
    to paint
    the sun.?"

    A simile to rival all others.


    • -BlackKnight- gold member
      March 16, 2007
      Edit | Reply
      Strawberry and grape are good as well. I've heard blackberry's not too bad.

1 - 9 of 9