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Open Poetry #48
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def-i-ni-tion [def-uh-nish-uh n] Of Me
| Open Poetry #48 |
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def-i-ni-tion [def-uh-nish-uh n] Of Me |
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Richy Member Elite
since 2003-05-03
Posts 3050
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Why is it the older we get, the faster life seems? It just doesn’t seem that long ago when the bulk of my heartbeats still, outweighed the balancing weight of my entirety. Put your hand beneath your blouse and place it, on the heart that I share with you. That pulse you just felt that surged into your palm, just tipped the container of my life scale even further down, the shadow beneath it getting ever smaller as the light above, gets farther and farther away. I was just thinking about how words are like chisels, in the way that they form and shape who we become. Words from others, that wash over us and smooth, or those even that rough up patches of our landscape making them less viable to growth, and the bounty of sweet fruit that we so yearn to taste. It’s amazing how much we all affect our outcome, in all the tender and hard ways we share with each other. O the spirits who come and go, leaving us lone to weather the fury, nights now longer by one hour, for every family member, gone. We are, the product of each other, of those who touch us, like it or not. These symbols of words that we place in each other’s mouths, they characterize our character in gentle teeth marks on our fingers, a petting of letters that barely graze against skin, quivering goose bumps, meeting them halfway. Why does every detour we take, determine, all of the layers of experience we see through? How does every example we experience exemplify, how we embody, and personify our personality? When do decisions we make, decide, how we turn out, and when we, turn inward? Our skin is a map of remarks that have marked us, leading us over our sands of desertion. Our mind is a scape of scares that have scarred us, making the moon proud of its sleekness. Our worth is a bone yard of breaks that have broke us, leaving the fragments of merit behind. If you’re lucky to be rich, sometimes it will enrich you, but being poor shows us less, can be more. Everybody around us helped write on the label that now is the facet we use as our face. Even the chuckling we give to each other, lines both our faces, with laughter and joy. And if we are lucky, the crows will leave feet prints, next to the eyes that see nothing to crow about. If we constantly kick people then we’ll live with a limp if we help pick them up we’ll be as strong as a chimp. If your heart is always pumping you’ll have a firm chest If you can’t find a beat, after stairs you need rest. If you often carry people your shoulders get big if you let them just crawl, you’ll look like a pig. If you kiss a lot of lips you’ll never be a wuss If you look like suckin lemons you’ll have a sourpuss If your ears are always there for someone else to bend They will always want you there when their heart needs a mend If your ears are all waxy and you don’t care to hear You will probably get hives with all the bees in there If you like to crack wise and make smartassy jokes They will set your arss n fire till your butt cheeks smoke! If your bosom is a place where people go to flee Then they won’t be all greasy like at KFC The sea has many fish but just because you’re dapper Don’t be sad if you end up with 90 year old snapper! *Okay sorry that one got away from me* If you’re always stingy and you never give a buck Everyone will tell you, just go suckabaga ducks! Ho dang it’s gottin wurse! Like the hands of a sculptor our synergy molds each other’s loam and marl, turning earth and muck into bone and tears, shaping sins and sinew, into supple arch, and torso. I see the shore in you, as a grab more sand to make your eyes, glitter even more. The curvature of dunes helps me envision your curves, while the fragrance of the sea keeps my memory moist, as waves grab kelp on the shore and make beach, foam furious with passionate release again and again as commitment, runneth over. Your love is the tides that see and saw, rising and falling between wave, and waver, brimming the undulations of fold, kissing you daily, tween swirl and lap. You are my explanation, of who I’ve become. You’re the balm of my breeze and drink of my sun. I just wanted to tell you, before I do leave. Thank you for defining, the best words in me  |
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| © Copyright 2013 Richy - All Rights Reserved | |||
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katahdin Senior Member
since 2010-07-01
Posts 1196ME. In the Shadow of the Mt. |
WOW Richy! Quite the definition! enjoyed! Kat >^..^< |
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Mysteria 
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
Do I love this! There are just so many lines I loved and I started to copy them but there are too many. You are right words are like chisels and form who we become, or also who we will never become. This is my favorite of yours of all! Enjoyed this and will be back to read through it many times I know. |
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