Since its NaPoWriMo (National Poetry Writing Month), Im going to attempt this 30 day/ 1 poem a day challenge. I missed yesterday...but heres the first poem on the second day. Dedicated to the ex-boyfriend in my 20s.....who loved the best that he could..with what he had. Which was only a handful. And not nearly enough to sustain a young woman striving to be whole. I understood...but still had to go. 2006 A.D. Her hands moved of their own volition, Over his face, arms, His Braille rose up off his skin, Aching to be acknowledged, Begging to be seen, Known, By a heaven he had heard of, Seen in a fat, lucid, dream, Pregnant with symbols and muddy memories, In that dream, he sensed heaven, Barely hinted at, But very much there, And also....in her firefly eyes... Which never landed on anything for too long, And so, he loved her, With his fractured, bloated, dysfunctional love, He loved her with ego and earnestness, With fragmented truth and everything he had to give, He loved her, But he was his past more than his present, Yesterday had made a home in his bones, A stalwart squatter, Yesterday had laid claim to him, Raised a flag, Waged a war, Yesterday was a terrorist, That would not allow him to touch her, With full liberation, He could only kiss her with half of who he was, A portion of his world, He loved her with all he had, With a war-torn heart, With shrapnel and compulsion, A ransacked village of a love, A pillage disguised as romance, He loved her with everything he had, In fits, Stops and starts, In gaps and inconsistencies, With shattered shards and sharp retorts, He cherished her in his own language, Broken syntax and repression, A language of withdrawal and bewilderment, So, imagine his surprise when she flew away, On wings he didnt even know she had, He didnt expect her to take to the sky, WIth a single bag, Never to see him again, No evacuation letters or pronouncements, She came into his life like unapologetic thunder, And left as a steel whisper, A quiet assasination, She left in the lowest decibel possible, In an unassuming way, At night time, While he slept in his tangle of fear, She packed only one bag, Mostly full of books and shoes, Fitting for a woman who lived mostly in her head, Or on the road, She left everything else, Her candles, Her flame, The nickname he had given her, She left it all, While he slept, She awakened.
Posted on: Wed, 02 Apr 2014 23:51:24 +0000
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