Be quick, it's late. Here's a poem on entropy
Fading Summer's Light
The flower spilled out
And clutter was on the ground
Below the tired stalk.
Clutter is flowering now
In the dreams of a good life
And this shine reflects
On the face of the fading
Summer's light, on you, me.
******************************
He's not worth his salt. That refers to the pay of a Roman soldier. This I guess is a poem about low self esteem.
Lack Of Salt Is My Dilemma
Muddy cold bog life
Streams through my sour damp sore heart
And its hidden things.
I would reveal them
But I’m afraid of your dark
And acid reply.
I’m afraid you’d say
Something true and deep, something
I don’t want to hear,
Something that would tear
Me limb from soft soggy limb,
Leave me stripped, alone.
This is what I do to me
In my salt diminished dreams.
***
A quote from AA's Big Book: Lack of power is our dilemma. Salt can stand for a kind of power quite easily. The book goes on to say: We need to find a power by which we can live. Where and how are we to find this power?
Hurry
1 week ago
Inside ourselves eventually :0)
ReplyDeleteMichelle, we will love you until you can love yourself... :)
ReplyDeleteMaybe we won't stop loving you even when you can.
That last one is so strongly worded and sad. It brings out the maternal instinct in me.
ReplyDeletefor when she said “I love you more than salt.”, she meant that she loved him more than that which gives life, which is a great love indeed.
ReplyDeleteRachel, I am glad that even when I wrote the Lack of Salt poem it was a role play. Somewhere I have been and could go again, I suppose, but not somewhere I live these days.
ReplyDeleteFaith, thank you for a good fairy tale that is a counterpoint to my poem.
I’m afraid you’d say
ReplyDeleteSomething true and deep, something
I don’t want to hear,
Something that would tear
Me limb from soft soggy limb,
Leave me stripped, alone.
So sad, Christopher. This one is so sad.
Karen, yes it is, and would be terrible if it was the end of the story instead of a little piece of the story.
ReplyDeleteAll these poems of yours
ReplyDeleteone would be enough
to last an entire season
to read them
over and over again
all summer long
then in the face
of fading summer's light
I'd be ready
to face the next
sitting here reading his poems
ReplyDeleteeating froot loops out of the box
thinking....what is ailing my man of the northern wall?
cold winter getting to his bones
or is it the early sunsets
does he like the cherry ones or the lime ones best
in frootloop land.....
just being silliness.....
Jozien, you are a kind and good lady to write me a poem like that.
ReplyDeleteCherie, nothing is ailing me, not right now. I publish these poems in order and I wrote these two last December, early in the month, and like I wrote in reply to Rachel, I was role playing then as well.
I love your fruit loops idea and I can see you eating them, oh yes. I can't tell you when I last if ever ate any though. If you offered I probably would accept.
Christopher, I already do.
ReplyDeleteBut I will take all the love on offer, thank you.
Michelle, consider love offered and me doing a little dance in celebration.
ReplyDeleteWhy thank you sir...
ReplyDelete