i shift to feel him
raise eye level
and readjust
i want to ask
but won't, about tension in his fingertips,
slow moans never loosed
m
Author notes
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A contest entry
- Keeping Things Whole by AJ Morelli.
3500 points, ended April 2, 24 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
no really, do me
Comments
1 - 28 of 28
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I just loved this.
I read this many times and I keep reading it two ways, one in which the event is the death of a loved one, and the "slow moans never loosed" a last breath, or last words. Other readings conjured a lover, well known and explored, an unrealised peak, near, but not fully realized, things left undone, unspoken. Both ways, it rocks this reader.
I knew the three winners in this contest would provide me with a clinic, and I was right. Never mind how they are arranged, all three are superb and very inspiring. Congrats on a well deserved award.
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first of all i love the title...
i really like the subtle movement of the first stanza; shift, raise and readjust work perfectly in describing the small movements of someone in bed...
"tension in his fingertips" says so much
and the slow moan never loosed, well
it don't get much better than that...
superb entry here
al
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interesting.
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interesting comment
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simple and quiet, without saying much but the silence you were talking about, like the feel of tension on his fingertips, is louder than words.....
I really hate those moments, where you want to say something, but feel as if you can't.
Nice poem, a work of pure art.
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I'm in love with this.
So well said, so pretty, so tiny and full of such brilliant thoughts and ideas.
Lovelovelovelovee!
<3
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I detest being caught in those moments when you have no idea if it is better to ask; whether or not the "stepping on toes" fear might outweigh wanting to KNOW.
too often that silence we read into as people that love to pen gets the best of us when we have these moments. it's one of the things I detest most actually.
there is so much to identify with this and it's so succinct and perfect as always.
best of luck in the contest with this, Mary.
Kim
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oh, and i love the verb 'loosed' in this, that is so perfect with slow moan...
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among the dying things...
yes that's a rather morbid, yet intriguing title.
the tension in his fingers and a loosen moan.
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This has a peaceful flow to it. Well done
Mariana
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as always, your writes convey that power and honesty through your subtle words and the space around the words. much is said and much is unsaid ... both are very rich.
good luck in the contest.
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i am soo glad i came on to read tonight. this is really great reading here. i will be reading more by you.
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few words, but so much said...or not said, lol. this is excellent
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Umm, maybe it's best that you don't ask m.
Once again, nicely penned m, and you are my poetic idle.
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something about this is so familiar. you always cater to the thoughts & emotions of your reader while catering to your own. that is rare, and wonderful! i love what isn't asked, and what isn't said, and what is felt.
excellent as always m! best wishes in al's contest. you've definitely set a high bar
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i like the dimensions here, the thoughts and the events...and the afterthoughts... PK
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this poem... it makes you feel and it makes you think.
one or two reads are just not enough.
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lol as for your author notes above..I think you been done
C
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I found this prompt a little over my head...
you hit the bulls-eye!
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...where the living used to come for pop corn...
about the reigning time of confession, there'll be a harkened posture of medieval thought, wrapped in a pair of lover's secretions, and the bounty of a festooned monument. when the yeast won't rise, it's time to make maneuvers hitch.
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this is beautiful poetry Mary, i love all that is unsaid, or....unmoaned, we tend to pick up on it in others.
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one line in particular that stuck with me and took me to a memory.... raise myself to eye level....
i remember taking care of my grandmother in her final weeks... her hospital bed we had in her home by the window over looking the ocean was huge...
or maybe i felt small- dunno- anyway, i had a chair i sat in... one of those old but so comfy chairs you can curl up and sleep in and it swallowed me whole like the cancer swallowed her....
i would shuffle and wake in the morning to see her looking down at me... and the grasp that chair had on me as i tried to get eye level with her reminded me of the fight she had on such a bigger level....
and sometimes.... i felt like that 5 year old girl... how i loved her brushing my hair with her old fashioned silver backed brush and would raise myself then to eye level with her by standing on the bed and how i would hug her- she would laugh and i would tell her this way she wont hurt her back bending over.
one little thought takes me many different moments, however they were all with the same woman. Thanks for reminding me of how much i loved her.
The rest of this... there are times when no questions need to be asked--- its almost like an unspoken courtesy?
I just loved this
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a million thoughts
in a single touch
we look for balance
when standing on the moon
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wow. that slow moan sounds like a last breath. and then there are those fingers that have lost their intimacy. there's no mention of light, but i feel darkness reading the poem. -s
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something so very sensual about this poem, yet also so very nostalgic....a song that stays unsung. wonderful writing - tight and poignant.
~ Nicolette
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Wonderful sensual image
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