Skip to main content

Introvert

It's the shadow of this thought
into which I've fallen.
This well of plots and characters
left unwritten.
Thank you for the nudge
but I don't remember meeting you
Oh! Yes, we made love so sorry
it's the shadow of this thought
through which a vision of you must swim.
Now I remember the taste of your skin.
Please take your place among the cast
as I step away and fall
And fall
And fall away.
I forgot to pay this bill? Sorry.
It's this shadow of this thought
into which I've fallen.
Chasing a naked girl
Correcting an injustice to make it right.
Sinned? Me? No, just walking and thinking
in a world of gray or into a world of citrus
and thinking
and thinking away.
Maybe we met when I knew your name
and you mattered in that moment
but my heart beats in the shadow of my skull
making you suspicious of me.
I know
and I know which way
the world turns toward the bright
and the loud, leaving the rest to live in shadows.
Doubly darkened by the shadow of our thoughts.
Have we met once before?
Taste me and let me know.

Comments

  1. Heart? Vulnerable heart? Yes. This poem.

    Holy friggin' wow.

    ReplyDelete
  2. "I know
    and I know which way
    the world turns toward the bright
    and the loud, leaving the rest to live in shadows."

    Profound writing.
    Glad to have found your blog, thank you for dropping by. Looking forward to reading more from you.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Love

Unbroken smooth between before after bruises bashes and shatters Beyond humid shocking kisses rather a cool lasting that matters. You are the one safe place I know. Fingertip gravity cheeks to lips Returning coming going and home Never leaving steadfast praying grips the exploding expanse of a poem. You are what I will never give up. Arlington to Golgotha, offices to factories Shoulder in, eyes forward, chin up Quiet unspoken shared stories lingering lost ring of a coffee cup. You are my favorite ghost. (written for One Single Impression) http://onesingleimpression.blogspot.com/

An Atlas and a Box of Crayons

Apprehending the Atlas, Pondering its problems. Its all wrong. Stay calm world, I've got this. Got a box of Crayolas. Look from the box to the map. Is sixty-four enough? There's a lot of work to do. Colored wax to the rescue! Where to start? Where to start? Where to start? Big problems. That's it. Hot spots. Get them fixed. Jerusalem. Everyone wants it. Jews. Muslims. Christians. We take complex toys from toddlers and shelve them So, out goes Jerusalem. (I'm going to need the Holy Blue Uh, Cerulean? Close enough) Where to put it? Greenland! Perfect. Plop it down. The Dome of the Rock. The Wailing Wall and the Church of the Holy Sepulchre resting on glaciers and Inuit bones. Denmark controls Greenland? Whoops, sorry about that Danes. Think of the tourism A hundred million pilgrims are pointed your way. You might want to put on the coffee. Australia catches my eye. It looks suspicious loitering down there in the corner All of th

Standing on Laguna Beach with the Ocean behind Me

The Pacific pitches a fit behind me as if someone in Japan snapped their end of the sheet and fired a rolling riot of wet over the earth to crash into the edge of Laguna. Laguna splays out from the sand between my toes It seeps and spreads and the piles and agglomerates from the beach to the boardwalk into the streets and through the shops up, up over the steep hills and out through the canyon road. I'm stretching my eyeballs I'm trying to see through it all Straight, right on through, across the continent all the way home to Connecticut. That's when Laguna stops being Laguna and I see it for what it is... the edge of America. Coming back toward me, from the east, and beating back my sight right into my eye sockets, is the whole of history. An impenetrable phalanx A phalanx of hominids but its not a parade. There's no order to it. Just the chaos of America. All of it. The Chumash, Pomo and Salinan bleed right through the Navaho and Apache.