by Darryl Price
is every word is a small step taken
away from you that arcs back to me like
a mamba's mouth. I'm not going around
in place so much as running in circles.
You can see my devilry here. You are
the truth here and that makes me the lie. You're
new morning. I'm much, much more sleep. You're birds.
I'm bats. You awaken while I cry in
my sleepwalking state. Every single word.
No matter what I write. You're laughter. I'm
floorboards. I want to be all of the stars
for once. You've already got that situation covered.
I'll take the white wafting flowers that
blow down by the lake like summer's curtains.
No, you'll have every petal, every drop
of lake, even the differing winds. Well
then I place this poem high on branches
of pine among a hundred branches of
pine. But no. Clouds are your closed eyelashes.
I know that when you open them again
I'll fall away into a nothingness.
Your skin's what I'll breathe if I breathe at all.
Bonus poems:
by Darryl Price
Young Lovers(first draft version)
Have to slug it out
with the whole world. Everyone says
they are for that love but they lie. No one wants
to believe anyone else could find it, what they could not.
Just not possible. No one could try harder than me.Yeah well
you'll see when love flushes you down. You won't see it coming. It's
not something you can plant
and grow just because you have
the land. Strangely enough it
can sprout up just about anywhere and
from anything. It can come out of a look given on
a passing piece of sun glass. You never know. In the meantime
we pretend to have it in our pockets like a good
old sturdy plastic comb. All we have to do is simply
reach for it. The lie
perpetuates itself .Everyone agrees it works, but secretly they don't believe it.
But young lovers are shunned,
disbelieved, and finally dismissed. They are
treated as children in danger of becoming swallowed by waves too
huge to imagine. How could these kind eyed strangers have found
the beautiful fountains and not shared its location with all of
us? It's selfish. Self serving at best. So unfair. Lucky bums need
their priorities set straight. Oh
we'll see to it for them, won't we?
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What I Find is about what happens when you look and really take in the truth of the moment. There's a certain standing back and saying ahhhhh, either in anguish or in silent revelation, but the human spirit still wants to give something to the story. Here I simply give my heart.
What I Find was just picked up for publication by EOS.
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speechlessly happy now.
"You're birds./I'm bats. You awaken while I cry in/my sleepwalking state."
yes YES YES! YES!!!!
lovely.
Especially like "What I Find," DP. Great form - using the couplet stanza. Yes.
Like the first even better than the second, DP, but the second is still fine because of its sinister but true close...*
That is an incredible piece, one I will read many times. What is the last line, the numbers?
First, I'm awe-struck by "What I Find" which is a stunning poem that to me reflects humankind's place within the natural world.
Second: "Young Lovers" is infinitely sad and beautiful, a yearning poem that weeps on the page.
**
Hi everyone. Thank you so much for taking the time to visit these works. I find it pretty difficult still to write with any consistency these days.But I can't help myself either.Martha to answer your question:right now I have a closet full of poetry journals..
..and typically I go through these looking for poetic ideas I've jotted down for later rethinking and further polishing. The numbers reflected the two dates I worked with these notes of mine to construct the poem you see before you.Thanks again.
bonus poem is now up at <a href="http://kaffeinkatmandu.tumblr.com/post/8882809754/young-lovers-by-darryl-price">kaffe in katmandu</a> with a photo by brassai from "paris by night".
Darryl Price--poet nonpareil.
*
GORGEOUS! Made my night! Thanks for posting both of these gems.
Fave.
Love these--though they are sad! Sad in a good way for a reader. xoxo Good to see you post, Darryl! I've missed you.
Happy to hear that this was picked up - your work deserves it!
Lovely first poem and so happy it has already found a home. Clouds are your closed eyelashes -- I say this over and over again. So happy to read you, friend. peace *