by Darryl Price
of microscopic plops a million of them going crazy for each other's membranes
hoping to reach each other lake instantly bursting out of nowhere flower leaves,like bags of
impossible spinning hands with flags. Bridges.Just add water, or tears.
We tried not to slide too far away from
each other. I know you tried. I tried to
try.I don't hold this whole gravity thing too long against you.Well maybe
we should have been typing ourselves a secret coded tunnel like in those wartime letters like they
always suggested at peaceful summertime school meetings?It's been going on that
way for thousands of years. Right? What's another lifetime or
so among such first as friends going to be? They fall into holes in clumps.
That's what I don't like about them. I don't want to
be part of a clump. But I do want
to somehow survive to be going somewhere alone with only the likes of say only
you. Yeah I know. Not very poetic. Still I
believe in you as someone worth loving to pieces even right this very now,even
as far away as these sand dunes have carried me and my over active mind to night.
That's a mirage I can't seem to live so well without any more. Well actually
I have no real choice in the matter. So much of my own
will to live is tied to that one awesome dream of loveliness you made happen to me.
I mean look there are still stars upon stars everywhere to be had for the asking.
Lots of them looking through telescopes at each other all the day and every other night long.
So many that you can't possibly believe that a true love like ours
ever ends. Not tonight anyway.There's still the same
old moon to party on with. It carries its heavy black torch without any such antiquated
delay.Okay so yes another hot day is surely coming back to us
along with its hoards of scorching pink tongues to lick
away at the awful lonely lives we lead. I don't care.Ashes
to ashes I say, because I find you to be a good
enough reason to let at least the thought of some happiness flow through all my most wretched
thoughts of continuing to learn to drive this life no matter where it leads me to in the somewhat bitter end of it all.
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“Our society is run by insane people for insane objectives….I think we’re being run by maniacs for maniacal ends, and I think I’m liable to be put away as insane for expressing that. That’s what’s insane about it.” John Lennon
Yeah I'm "one of the broken-hearted people living in the world today" as the Beatles put it. I'd walk away from it if I could, but that would be so totally dishonest. Plus my voice at least lets the shell people have a bit of a voice on the wind.We very rarely get heard except as background to the loudly crashing waves leaping upon us even in our sleep. dp
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I read this yesterday already and I read it today. A great poem that asks the reader to make some soul space, push the plush pillows aside so to speak. Deep truths in here about relationships and - as always in your writing - about our position and our path in the world. Really enjoyable start to my morning. And something else: it struck me there's an entire film in that poem, more easily made by a French[wo]man perhaps, Agnes Jaoui comes to mind.
For me, this poem is like seeing something for the first time, and then wondering afterwards how you never noticed it all before. I love this. *
"It's not that
I am all out of love
for the girl with the crookedly
drawn smile,believe me,it's that
the words have no more pulse
to them than a vanilla stick
from a long ago icecream truck
dream."
This and passages like this are nonpareil.
*
Delete "definitely," "little," "over" from stanza one--less tight than the rest.
To say this is "well crafted" doesn't do it justice, but it surely is. A brilliant and moving poem. *
Enjoyed this, DP. I like your phrasings.
Fine poem, moving perfectly through time, wonderful way-station images.
Another brilliant poem, Darryl. I agree w/Bill's suggestions as well.
I caught my breath with these lines:
I didn't know
or care about the secret plotting
things girls talk about with each
other. Boys never do. All I
cared about was that your palm
and mine were pressed firmly together
and they wouldn't, couldn't find us
to cut us apart and we
kept on sailing away together for
another year and a day.
*!
It is sad. Lovely how so. :) Nice to read your words again, D. xo