there is a pond
my grandaddy dead now
denied that birds couldn’t talk
because they sang but that it could fly
and i know his pond flies
the way its water is everywhere
in it at night where it pretends to only bend up
but gleams like the everywhere place I know rain returns to from
i never swam in the pond down to its bottom
he said he never did either
didn't like heights he’d say
and the sun’d run through him like water
at night he’d sit on the roof
and told me there how when gramma died
he learned how suffocation broadens one’s ambitions
to be like the morning
when I hear the wood spirits sleep and they are dreaming of their drums
and your shadow brushes through the ardent blueberry thorns
on your way to be upon me, you
wash me in purple
and the sun runs through me like water
Author notes
prompt: to breathe
dedicated to my baby, always http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OSp5aH6JBWM
i will try to be this way http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jgPm97GRFco&feature=fvw
background by author
In a list
- List of Poems Written for Me by AP Poets (under construction) • next in list
- My Favorite AP Poets • next in list
- Beautiful Words by Beautiful People I Know • next in list
A contest entry
- A Night Hope {kinda sorta} Contest by MuddyKing.
2000 points, ended September 11, 15 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 7 of 7
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You know I think this is gorgeous, yet you are ever so much shinier than your words, my Baby. Congrats on the trophy, Sweetheart. 
♥
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this left me with so many images and favorite lines
although there is a hidden language that only you will know of
the last line has an essence that I can't get out of my mind
loved it thoroughly
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and i know his pond flies
the way its water is everywhere
in it at night where it pretends to only bend up
but gleams like the everywhere place I know rain returns to from
~remarkable statements..
brill!!
an outstanding write.. thanks for sharing <333 best of luck in the contest
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"...and i know his pond flies
the way its water is everywhere
in it at night where it pretends to only bend up
but gleams like the everywhere place I know rain returns to from..."
"...he learned how suffocation broadens one’s ambitions
to be like the morning..."
just a couple of lines that got beneath skin ~ and I sense the thrum of wood spirit drums.
then you wash over the reader in waves of fluid sunlight with your closing stanza
such tenderness in this poem, Danny... such brilliant shining tenderness...nodding... wonderful.
Best of luck in the contest, PoetScribe.
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As for the song link...Sighhh. You don't have to try, Mister. You've already succeeded. I love you. ♥
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This poem, in its entirety, is a massively beautiful piece, for many reasons, both known and unknown to me. There is such tenderness, such wisdom, such devotion and clarity resounding throughout each line. Your final stanza, standing alone, is another remarkable poem. Since I am aware of your drumming skills and finesse with your wood flute, it becomes even more meaningful to me. The additions of the fruit and the sun pouring through you like water is a tour de force, well-worthy of any major, prestige publication....and most certainly, garnering a special place within the many rooms of my heart. Good luck in Richard's contest.
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"on your way to be upon me, you
wash me in purple"
Sighhhh. No matter your subject content, your writing always enthralls me. I still think it's out of this world, literally; so captivating.
You write magic!
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