This piece is a strange departure in that I wrote it without a title in mind. Nothing seemed to fit, and years later, nothing really does. As the poem evolved, starting as some ramblings in an old journal (hence the final title) in 1992 and arriving in its present state oh, in 2003 I think, I never saw anything that struck me except the sort of journal-like stream of consciousness feeling that permeates the piece. And as I have grown, so too did the poem change. Granted, I have changed since, but I am comfortable with the way the piece turned out, and am thankful that could recognize the changes I needed to make in the end. So, what this poem tells me, is that my normal formula for writing (having a title in mind, not changing much, editing sparsely unless it is a typo or grammar issue) was thrown out the window in this piece...
As for other things, I would like to wish everyone the best this holiday weekend, though I am sure I will add something before Christmas, but in case this is the last entry y'all see before then, Merry Christmas and all that polite holiday business :)
'An Untitled Journal Entry'
He reached for his armor...
I.
A cool wind wisps through my hair
caressing me in the soft light of 'morn
A verdant canopy filters sunrise in
patterns random and radiant
leaves still fresh with moisture of nights chill
I rest against an aged oak gnarled with
The passage of days such as these
Armor? Still wearing it... constraining
Crushing at times but proper and right
Vanity? But I need the armor
Waiting watching in the cool of shadows
I know what should be... that smell
the wind shifts the harbinger of souls
that delightful presence
trying to hide hoping not again
could be... I am wrong.
II.
A fragrance looms as burning sensation
deep within my mind
reminding wishing for days I cannot forget
Close your eyes... go away
A whisper a brush of a hand
Pulling against the helm...
holding against fear able to breathe again but wanting
not looser it feels
But I cannot lose the armor
Back from that place when I was so young
thought I had lost to you...stop...
hair like a whirlwind racing amidst
myself reaching into a soul
eyes shattering my being to the core of my heart
A kiss... remembrance
How old? without the armor...trying to pick up
gauntlets the mail but so long ago
Reaching for me but duty calls must go to war...
holding on refusing to yield
The armor falls.
III.
Night...
dreaming once more of her
So real lying in the cool grass
filling me with life lost healing wounds
unable to mend
Shifting in the moonlight glancing at her form
Whispering three words to the air
The wind carries them
She does not hear
Armor... not even a thought or care in the
depths of passion cradled together humbled
by her spirit and wonder
Who needs armor?
Breathing in the nascent starlight
feeling her warmth against my skin
Awake and reaching for me
the moon reflecting those gems into
places thought forgotten but not even explored
A caress... somewhere a star dies
preceding a kiss
Hearts beating ignoring the scattered pieces
the curiass floating away wanting to
drift into peaceful slumber
unable to stop wondering thinking of
of...
IV.
Warmth of dawn creeps over me
ushering my hopes to feelings of her joy
But the smell... that sensation gone
now drifting with the changing wind
warmer yet kinder
I sit and listen for awhile
Such a beautiful sound...
Armor? All that is left... within myself
no chord to strike an empty shell
waiting... waiting for its routine
I reach for my armor.
C.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment