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All things move within you in constant half embrace -Kahlil Gibran, On Freedom |
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..............................Odysseus tied to the mast
no longer her nor here
A cry―Oh!
the outpouring word
more sound than word
yet, both―Oh!
i don’t want to leave you!
my thin blue skin, my song
you said, and then, left me
without, along the edge, alone
it was the end of the day
& the sound in it inspired
beginning
beginnings over & over began
without symbols or centers―Oh!
darkness fell in my throat and felt
delightful memories & squeals
& what was soft copper was beaten and hardened & banged
on boxes of your things in gestures what we lived & loved
shared together & lost; each rhythm sucked in, never held
& the sound in me, drowned
i exhaled & intoned but oh never vanished
& then the fear―oh! my god!
you left me (forever)
& now confronting your absence
everywhere & over & over
my loss grows larger and larger
(but never in a larger word)
in the distance in the discourse
broken like a vessel lost at sea―Oh!
i is a loathsome word & sound & thing
unloveable & left to sing
my blue and spotted in between
my see and sky put off, put on & yet―Oh!
the sound for you grows thin in i
the you, the way you wanted
without and not within
dotted blue the oh begin
again an i
& i in you
my spotted flesh
of earth and loss
not living her in me unheard
hears the call in naked cry to me to trust it still
tied to the mast, the work, the word |
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