Washed fingers
Bougainvillea evenings seem far enough.
I must stop.
My back’s bleeding.
I have carried too many summers far too long.
Colorless. Dry-hot.
I used to be able to play them. Lute like.
But that was long ago.
I mount my summers on countless canvasses
My fingers play among sunflowers
I am ready.
Eyes first.
Sleeping. Desert Long. Blue dark. Sand quick.
Then
wilderness of your footprints
the fog of your tongue
red earth?
Then the half sung moon.
Private. Eventful.
Then spring came
Or was it winter?
I can’t recall.
Why do the lines smudge?
My fingers?
It’s done now.
Let me weave it with the cellophane sky.
The suns out.
Let it dry. The colors must not bleed now.
But then my summers bore fruit.
It rained.
I must stop.
My back’s bleeding.
I have carried too many summers far too long.
Colorless. Dry-hot.
I used to be able to play them. Lute like.
But that was long ago.
I mount my summers on countless canvasses
My fingers play among sunflowers
I am ready.
Eyes first.
Sleeping. Desert Long. Blue dark. Sand quick.
Then
wilderness of your footprints
the fog of your tongue
red earth?
Then the half sung moon.
Private. Eventful.
Then spring came
Or was it winter?
I can’t recall.
Why do the lines smudge?
My fingers?
It’s done now.
Let me weave it with the cellophane sky.
The suns out.
Let it dry. The colors must not bleed now.
But then my summers bore fruit.
It rained.
posted by Abhra at 4:19 AM
1 Comments:
Right, I finally feel I can step back from the mesmerizing effect this has had on me, and comment.
First up, the first thing about your poetry that seized one by the throat is the vividness of the images and symbols- the word associations are magical. the relation of concrete objects with actions- half sung moon. or the synthesis of disparate entities- waists of dark rivers, blue petals of love. quite magical.
A bit of nit-pikcing- sometimes, a bit from a poem, although lovely by itself, doesn't quite fit in. here, I'd say that's the case with the stanza "I reacall having...coffee cup do?". You could also probably edit out "I hate these...insipid".
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