I have hurt myself on his words.
God, I am so thin-skinned, so damned wounded,
that little lines break through bandaids
sticky borders of yesterdays
His truths; oh, my lord, his knowing
speak like an ancient voice in dark night;
my starless weep behind rusted doors
breathed in like words he wraps
to keep me from this cold
(someone asked me to write of rainbows this morning)
How I wanted to say that rainbows lie
when there is no other light to shed
(these damnable dreams we scheme
to make things pretty)
paper-cut wounds appear like stigmata
and I don’t even believe in that
(of course, that is because I think
He did not believe in me)
I showed them. I did. I made more
of myself than anyone thought I could
(but it is such a thin fricking bit of un-supple skin
that can be reopened by a few simple lines)
oh, my lord, how I miss what I miss
I am gutted and all my sorrows string out
to be examined by some shaman
I can not see
He could tell me, I know,
that stuffing this all back leaves me
like poorly sewn, overhand-stitched, teddy bear
leaking little balls of fluff
wherever I am drug
(this is exquisite pain, my friend)
It is like having them resurrect for that moment
of pure joy followed by the most ecstatic angst
(Do it again. I will take that moment of heaven
for the rest of the hell that is turned loose
in this playroom world where love once lived)
Author notes
http://allpoetry.com/grm
A private person, I believe, but should you catch a poem, know that this world was so loved, an angel with words that reek of reality was left out in the open for us to catch spinning ways of reaching a divine knowing...
In a list
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Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Excellent
What a great poem for the picture. Really is so profound.
-
I have no words
only thoughts
and as I feel
I can only sigh
effortlessly
Mal
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"His truths; oh, my lord, his knowing
speak like an ancient voice in dark night;
my starless weep behind rusted doors
breathed in like words he wraps
to keep me from this cold"
Sighhh...You are such a magnificent Soul, Carol. He will be so touched by this incredible penning, I know. You are both such amazing writers. I swear, a holy hand guides yours as you write. The both of you have not just improved me as a writer, but as a sentient human being. You make me aware of my own soul. Beautifully done...for one so deserving of kind words. I'm so proud of you both...& honored to be counted among your Friends. 
Wanda
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Carol... I read the same poem of his as you did this morning and I saw your comment "I weep, I weep this poem" and I can tell you I wept it too. Perhaps for a different reason but the sorrow touched me and your poem echoes that too. Somehow your words here made me think of this poem by Octavio Paz (especially "thin-skinned, wounded, bandaides) - Lord, you've touched on it so very well here...
"Cold rapid hands
draw back one by one
the bandages of dark
I open my eyes
still
I am living
at the center
of a wound still fresh"
~ Octavio Paz
My heart echoes the final stanza of your poem - yes, we'll do all of that again. Beatuiful beautiful poetry as only you can say and touch the heart within.
~ Nicolette
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