(Day 2 Vacay) Buttons ~ A Poem of Love
Trust has a precarious power to topple even the strong and forgiving
.... when it is broken
I wrote a poem of love
I wrote a poem of hate
I set my pen to dance
and fell headlong into words that cut
my soul and hurt where they fell
and for once
just once
I began to censor what I heard.
I didn't like it.
I didn't like it at all.
They sang into sadness
one syllable at a time
and then rose unto joy
sink
ing
again
into what I knew to be true.
They danced back and forth - those words of mine -
with a slow and steady rhythm I could not deny
and would not withhold
and cannot
will not
squelch
Sacred secrets of sin
bastardly barbs they were
What about them made me weep?
I let them hurt
I looked
I hated them
every last one
I saw their power
to wound
to maim
to scar
I did not heed
I will not be afraid of words.
So I opened
for once
just this once,
and danced with them.
Deep
penetrating
exhausting
unforgiving
empty
What about them made me angry?
so I began again to write about love
and silly things
crooked wiry glasses, candles and dalliance
flirtation and sex and tumbling people
but the joy did not come
It fell
a
w
a
y
I hated what I knew to be love
and I loved what I hated
for it was - long about the time the third button was washed -
that I saw a betrayal
and that was the button
that cost the most
When I am stronger
and not so tired
I will look at it again
but not today
I wrote a poem of love
a poem of hate
a prayer of peace
All three, all three, all three
sound exactly the same
They laugh on my face
and smother my heart;
For what I found,
when the strength of my wet prayer slipped silen
tly
between the folds of my shirt and
danced defiantly down the curve of my breast
was fear
Sprawled in a sensual splat
in a blurry puddle of me
there
at the end
of my shirt
a mirror
Heaven
is
always
in
the
spill
Tears.
I find them annoying
Damn truth
Nobody ever hides from water spilled on buttons
bastardly barbs they were
What about them made me weep?
I let them hurt
I looked
I hated them
every last one
I saw their power
to wound
to maim
to scar
I did not heed
I will not be afraid of words.
So I opened
for once
just this once,
and danced with them.
Deep
penetrating
exhausting
unforgiving
empty
What about them made me angry?
so I began again to write about love
and silly things
crooked wiry glasses, candles and dalliance
flirtation and sex and tumbling people
but the joy did not come
It fell
a
w
a
y
I hated what I knew to be love
and I loved what I hated
for it was - long about the time the third button was washed -
that I saw a betrayal
and that was the button
that cost the most
When I am stronger
and not so tired
I will look at it again
but not today
I wrote a poem of love
a poem of hate
a prayer of peace
All three, all three, all three
sound exactly the same
They laugh on my face
and smother my heart;
For what I found,
when the strength of my wet prayer slipped silen
tlybetween the folds of my shirt and
danced defiantly down the curve of my breast
was fear
Sprawled in a sensual splat
in a blurry puddle of me
there
at the end
of my shirt
a mirror
Heaven
is
always
in
the
spill
Tears.
I find them annoying
Damn truth
Nobody ever hides from water spilled on buttons
I wonder what about them made me weep?
written 2007
That's it for Day 2: Mimi Vacay
4 comments:
"Sprawled in a sensual splat
in a blurry puddle of me"
I find unexpected word combinations fascinating.
Lot of interesting undertones and emotions in this. I hope you are enjoying your vacation.
Hi Mimi
Thanks so much for stopping in to the HnH. I loved your comment. So much so, I commented back, but thought I would also place it here as well.
HI Mimi,
Thanks for dropping in!! I'm really glad I could make you smile.
I agree, those early blogdays were fun. Stretching one's own imagination to put an idea on a little square piece of cyberblogpaper. Then hitting the publish post button (which always brought out excitement, anxiety, and even a little fear just before pushing it). Then watching my cyberscribble on the cyberblogpaper suddenly disappear before my eyes, but quickly replaced by some cyber-speedreading-blog-editor-in-chief's
cyberblogreport stating "Blog Published Successfully" (which brought out more excitement and anxiety because somehow my blogscribble was accepted into the blogrealm).
And then the wait.
The wait until someone out there, way out there, in the blether (that's blog speak for blogoshpere + ether) actually read my little blogscribble and somehow attached a little blicky note (that's blogspeak for blog + sticky note) to my published cyberblogpaper and in that blicky note would be a wonderful statement by that person out in the blether that I couldn't help but attach another blicky saying a big thanks, because somehow that person way out in the blether found my cyberblogscribble and actually liked or constructively criticized my blogscribble.
Then I would stretch my imagination again to publish another page of my cyberblogscribble, and these people would find my post again and leave more blickys. And these people would become more than just someone out in the blether, but would make connections and blendships (that's blogspeak for blog + friendships) would form.
To me, that's why blogging was so much fun, and to me, those blendships that were created back then have as much or maybe even more meaning than real world friendships because they were all formed with all the above experiences in common.
TTFN Mimi
To me you are one of my most important Blends (that's blogspeak for Blog + Friend)
Frank
hi, Mimi,
..all i can say is: enjoyed and loved it! thanks for sharing!
blends, a new word in my vocabulary, Frank. thanks.
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