you will find the dust on my shoulders
waiting for you to brush away,
the nails to my fingers reaching down to my knees
waiting for you to snap and polish,
my hair invaded by old cormorants
having nowhere else to go in their hunger
and waiting avidly for your hand to feed
and caress,
you will find sand in my eyes
and trees between my toes
and beneath each leaf a sleeping mockingbird
hanging to departing green by tiny, shivering claws,
you will find my skin hanging inside the cupboard
dripping the swarms of sweat you once dressed me in,
my teeth beneath the sleeping grey mouse
the ferocious guard to ivory and pieces of flesh once belonging to you,
my heart splashed on the cold tiles
looking for the departed warmth of your soles,
my flesh... gone...
questing for yours.
don’t cry, only love me,
and my body parts will find their way back home
and my friends will find their way back home,
and you... found home.
In a list
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 12 of 12
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Sigh.
So?
What took you so long?
Beautiful poem of yearning.
Love
Myra
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hey, not so long at all, just a little of eternity . thank you myra friend mine
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Home. such a deeply meaningful word, so often mistook for a building or domicile. home is where the heart is, therefore in the heart. Yours is huge. A mansion, a goliath of a monolith. Yours is never vacant, though at times not full. Such a home it is. Such a write this is. One of rebirth, one of peace. It does my "home" good to see your words here of simple happiness, and endurance. I smile and leave a rose for the garden around your home.
Blessed be,
Billie Jean
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your poetry, word or poem, leaves at times blisters on its path, thank you billie friend
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There is truth in the cliche "home is where the heart is"... This poem spoke to my very bones, to my marrow, to my heart that had forgotten itself there in a distant home... This is so beautiful, Joe...and it made my eyes all misty and soft. You do know how to write the heart's language, my friend.
~ Nicolette
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i learn from my well respected “competition” my dear nic friend
thank you so much for these words
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Hauntingly beautiful, my friend. This one crawls right into the reader's soul. So many vivid images are provided in this well penned offering. I love the fresh originality of your thought process, as well! So many well turned phrases, and expert use of metaphor.
"...my heart splashed on the cold tiles
looking for the departed warmth of your soles,
my flesh... gone...
questing for yours......"
These lines gave me the shudders, and I could sense the longing in them! So wonderfully stated!! For, is not the flesh "home" empty, without satisfaction? Well Done, my friend! Masterfully written, indeed. Bravo!
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i think i get addicted to your comments... well, seriously said, this comment is of a kind driving me to write further. thank you so much, my friend
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home is such a basic word ... implies warmth comfort and belonging but all of us with basic needs of "other" and flesh home is still empty without that component of need satiated.
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who knows it better than us, my friend? thank you
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Mystery ...
...of poetical wonder...
Poetry can give us a sense of wonder and amazement, as well as transform us. Some poems won't let us be the same person after reading of them. And this is the kind of it. Thank you for this genuine poetical and personal beauty. Shine poet, shine...
~Sonja~
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thank you for such a wonderful comment, indeed you express what i earn to achieve in my poetry, and i am glad you concur your observation to my struggle, thank you immensely, sonja
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