Posts Tagged ‘family’

Death of oneself be

more feared-

by Cowards- than death

of one who is near and dear.

Right now the sunlight is flashing

in between trees,

and igniting the jasper

of my eyes

as I ride steadily northward

to home.

Right now there are lovers

talking, somewhere,

there are birds

flying, somewhere,

there are mothers, fathers,

sisters, brothers, children,

and lonely people on flights

across country

and across the globe.

Somewhere- children come

screaming to life.

Somewhere- life escapes bodies-

like water down pipes.

At this same time,

there are people sitting at home.

Sweet lady,

you’ve shrunk to a corn husk,

your eyes bulge with water-weight,

you’re hunched over like a crescent moon.

Prattle on in Polish 

among the younger adults

who sip wine, that sour nectar.

 

I’m a ghost in the room.

I fade into the gray walls.

My disinterest fuels my observation,

and, if you’ll forgive me, my ignorance

towards announced recollection of days long gone 

(fond memories I’ll sneeze at in the future).

I notice the pot bellies– as one grays,

one grows out– the obsession with the menial,

and I realize I want glamour,

I want flashing lights and millions to know my name,

then I won’t be wide eyed, staring at a dog.

Then I’ll be able

to make conversation

with people who mutually want to,

to talk about things 

that actually have meaning.

If you could lift these wounds,

peel them off like children’s stickers;

if you could house my faint heart

drumming under your arms,

my face pressed against the maternal warmth

of your chest.

if you could see me;

infantile, sobbing over scarlet cuts and scrapes,

the opening of my innocent skin– this Earth’s first incision.

My darling, my friend,

of whom I know so much and still

so little,

would you be there?

Would the hole in your chest contract,

and your starry-eyed glitter of dreams

recede into your pupils

so you could wholly see the crimson blood of reality?

My darling, my friend,

would you extract yourself

from your fragrant life of new suitors

just so you could cup the softness of my temples

and cool the agitated flare that beat, beat, beat

such a racket against my skull?

If you could take an excursion

from the humdrum sidewalks

and lost-luster neon so we could venture forth

into the dark and endless green, the contained infinity of the natural,

would you?

My dear dear friend, would you?