after a day of word wrangling & shopping for food
mishaps of non communication between lovers
not hearing every word or even misplaced
moments when the taut string snaps
unlike a bungee rope
don't fly to the ground
- oh but please open up and swallow me whole
- he's young, he'll grow into this & that
i know this but shield him; no
he learns from the letting of mine and his blood
& guts ripping like an old shirt
more comfortable on older skin
extremities weathered by more storms
inside a teacup in the cafe
an old man tells fortunes out of yesterday's newspaper
we buy the food
look at kittens in the petshop
stop at the park;
decide to walk the dog later today
because today
we need time
to talk, to hold
each other
not just for the will
or the iron hands of wrung out love
because of the sheer need
feel the cold shiver each is giving
enough warmth to rise above
by the time
dinner-time comes around;
pasta with spiced pork german sausage
plenty of vegetables
- even mushrooms quietly disguised for kirea
stomachs settle
hearts are full
and the uneasy beatings of old and young
merge into onebeing
arisen from a few broken syllables
and the odd shouted out syntax
- he doesn't really like poetry
but i read to him anyways
it calms his nerves
Comments
1 - 11 of 11
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cool
thats how i got into poetry by my ex reading hers to me. -
I love to come by and read your work. Post more please...
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it would take too long to type all the lines that stood out for me, so I will just leave clappies because I enjoyed this so much.
the last stanza made me smile too
Juls
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Life in verse, for better or worse
THis is so special with its celebrationof life's little observations. Very well done.
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so many wonderful lines.. but the final stanza.. brilliant
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this is very good, this sense of sharing and understanding, because i think this is when it is needed when there are the occasional hiccups in a relationship, anyway...I enjoyed, thanks...PK
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But I bet he hears it so much better when you are the one reading it too him
More smiles here C
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"Poetry is nothing more than an intensification or illumination of common objects and every day events until they shine with their singular nature, until we can experience their power, until we can follow their steps in the dance, until we can discern what part they play in the Great Order of Love. How is this done? By fucking around with syntax." from: "Even Cowgirls Get the Blues" by Tom Robbins
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'or the iron hands of wrung out love'
ouch
and what a kicker of an ending
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aah yes, those misplaced moments and snapping taut strings between lovers - ai ai ...tell me about it, lol!
you poetry always places the reader right there with you, in the visuals, in the moment, in the said an unsaid, gilly.
loved the closing lines...yebo, what better soother than your poetry!!! the poetry reading so made me smile for all kinds of reasons
~ Nicolette
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yebo gogo my dear girlfriend..... always with love
yes
yes yes
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