she says,
smilingly,
winking at the sun
and not me.
my shorts
fly freely,
sailing in the sun
into the sea.
Tag: Relationships
I came across this in a notebook the other day. I am posting it mainly so I can recycle the notebook paper on which I had written it.
O imaginary lover!
You exist only in dreams,
silent films showing
in my spinning head.
Your skin is ghostly white,
transparent,
translucent,
now opaque.
O imaginary brother!
You exist only in memories,
documentaries being filmed
in my thinning head.
Your arms are ghastly wide,
intransigent,
transcendent,
now opaque.
O imaginary mother!
You exist only in here,
paltry poesy written
by my shaking hand.
Your skin is ghostly white,
translucent,
transcendent,
now opaque.
Thrown afloat from my skiff,
I drift upon flotsam flung
Far into the foaming sea.
I paddle my legs homeward,
A haven from my voyage,
Toward my true Penelope.
Dawn:
Wake.
Still in bed,
staring upward,
I hear her sleep.
Last night’s fight casts
a viewless line
between us.
Arise.
Dusk
falls.
Seeing red,
waiting for him
to apologize
for what he said.
The viewless line
between us
remains.
It was in high school that I made the decision to become a writer. My fascination with language was piqued, and I have not been deterred from the love affair since. It was during this time that I first started writing poetry, and I have kept a good bit of that material, most of which is terrible. In finite terms, I was largely concerned with insects and celestial bodies for some reason. I wrote about the soul frequently but rarely achieved any depth. Occasionally, however, an idea flowed from my teenage pen that is worth revisiting and remembering for posterity. Here’s one of them, an image piece, entitled “Those Tiny Fingers.”
Those tiny fingertips
make tiny fists in the air.
The tiny baby shrieks,
for his mother has gone.
I found a few other poems from back then that I still like, so I may post another one later after I’ve done some preliminary polishing.