rushwrite 4 may 2009

How can I miss something I have never had?

I miss the way I held you in my dream.

You were mine,
And I held you.

You were new to this earth,
And I was yours.

I held you.

A soft new towel to swaddle you in.

I miss the way my hand supported your head.

I miss your eyes.
Your mouth.
Your round belly.

I miss you.

You had no name to me yet,
But I knew our blood forged the bond between us.

Sometimes it's just you.
Sometimes you're a girl.
Sometimes you're a boy.
I hope it doesn't disturb you--no set sex.
It seems no cause for alarm to me;
Just dreamland making dreamy sense like usual.

Sometimes it's just you with me.
Sometimes, like last night, more accompany you.

Last night you had two older sisters.
All of you were mine.
I was all of yours.
And I miss you all.

I ask this question too:
Who stands,
Who sits,
Who stays
Beside me?

For in dream, there is no one.

Not even a phantom
Not even a wisp of tangible air
Not even a vanishing flash

Nothing.
No one.
No one here now either.

I stand

Sol
i
tary

Almost solitary.
Solitarily missing you.

Visit me again soon.
I already miss you.
I miss you already.
I will always miss you.
I always will miss you.

And this part might not make sense:
Even when you come, I might still miss you;
I might be in such shock that you've finally let me hold you for real,
For the first time--
We will be each others.

steel my heart

water my eyes
rock my knees
flower my forehead
wind my hair
fire my feet
dirt my belly
light my hands

could I?

I could almost
If you would

I could almost whisper your name
I could almost write you a letter in another language
I could almost laugh at your eyes making a silent joke

I could almost
If you would

If you would call me up to describe the shattered bird's egg you held
If you would perch on a rock with me and gaze above and below
If you would see me

If you would
I could

I could jump without a fear of falling
I could hold my breath forever
I could let you see me

I could

open after

it wasn't the way you blinked your eyes before laughter
it was the way you opened them after
they always seemed more sad
as if you realized nothing at no time in no place
could possibly make you laugh in precisely the same way

you would open your eyes
and the spark of light would shine
still brightly
but tinged with a more serious edge

it had something to do
also
with the slight furrowing of your brow

for an instant
the space above your nose would converge
holding back something unseen

and so it's you I think of now
as the laughter dies
on an exhalation
followed by a deep inhalation

it's you because your after-laughter-eyes
haunt me
taunt me
with a morsel of knowledge at which
I cannot even begin to grasp

so keep it up
you
your creasing brow
the withholding
the keeping yourself out of reach
I cannot understand you
and your laughter's aftermath

yet?

to rachel

Oh, Rachie, 'tis not easy at all for me. It's just my spewing. Don't know if any of it makes much sense at anytime. But thanks for reading. I write mostly for myself; I'm selfish that way, but it's nice to know that at least one person happens to take a lil' gander at these things.

fill in the rest

writing prompt for today:
Use one of the following phrases as the first line of your poem.
Write at least two poems in the ten minutes we have to write.
No, your poem doesn't have to rhyme.
Be creative in crafting vivid imagery.

First lines:

• One window is all I need
• Forgive me while I lower my head now
• He hadn't fished on any river
• Once I dreamed I succeeded in balancing on an egg
• She blinked and moved on

(If you absolutely detest all of these first lines, go ahead and write your own.)


Here's what I came up with in about five minutes...nothing much, but it's always fun to go off for a moment:


one window is all I need
though I'd like three or four
luxury is not an option
with these dark dank walls
closing me in

one window is all I need
but no plea
can crack open a break
in this stone

one window is all I need
to see
to gaze
at a spot of hope
removed from here

all I need is one window
is one window all I need?
is survival one window?
survival is one day
one moment

one breath

need

2-0

They run the length of the field
With their four shadows marking Xs
Round them.

I watch them pass, trap, juke.
I listen to the Spanish.

I don't understand,
But turn it up anyway to hear
The rise and fall of their voices.

It looks cold and wet,
But envy still bites.

I want to make such a crisp pass.
I want to run onto the ball
Perfectly riding into the open space.