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Open Poetry #34
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RSWells
Member Elite
since 2001-06-17
Posts 2533


0 posted 2005-02-04 05:28 PM



To this life
.
.
.
.
Three days ago were signs.
The first journey beyond the mailbox
in weeks passed a small field,
square between the bungalows
of working people, edged
by winter raped saplings

One, on the turning corner closest,
held a huge owl.
An owl,
an owl in broad daylight.
Full and wide unmoving,
as unconcerned of me as I was amazed
at he whose steely talons
arrested a bare dull branch

A score of paces on arose,
from the weathered patch, a hawk
to occupy a further starving tree,
his sharp eye I tried to catch
that he might tell me what this meant.
He, too busy, and my eyes
too old to reach I moved on

Two nights ago, one before
the sleepless one, I dreamt.
(nearly as rare as the owl)
I was returning to the home
I raised my children in arriving
two streets short to a labyrinth
where a faceless young woman
resisted my claim too slowly
which became demands that she
and her group get out

Hours of cursing finally drove
them away and I wondered through
endless rooms, finding clusters
of faceless people, driving them off
while resisting the entry of many more
who came in groups from all angles.
Always I’m screaming and threatening
and ending in the murder of one of them

A quintet of paramedics who used wide
stairs as bleachers came down and one,
average everything, forgettable but the wire
rim glasses, exchanged words with me
ignoring my victim and they withdrew.
And I awoke

I cannot blame you anymore.
You, you and you for this broken
expedition. It was started with Anglo
expectations in ruddy faced provisioning,
boundless wandering with eager hands
like loyal sons and feet ignorant of
the earth’s spinning

Somewhere its ship called hope iced in,
underneath a cold edged planet and feet
became gelid blocks and the wind,
like a seasoned pro, always seemed to punch
through to me from unguarded directions.

I’ve cannibalized the meager memories
after I’d allowed them to spoil long ago
and lost fingers on tin edges, toes
to unfeeling frostbite. I won’t apologize
to anyone because there’s no one left
to apologize to me

Someone sits on my chest now,
someone else pokes fingers
into my arteries. They will never
have a name.

I sit on a dwindling ice floe
while something dry, invisible
seeps from the corners of my eyes

Poets against the war is redundant

© Copyright 2005 Richard S. Wells jr. - All Rights Reserved
Soulfisher
Member
since 2005-01-07
Posts 226
where ever the fly fishing is good
1 posted 2005-02-04 05:57 PM


The eyes of predators are upon you. both night(owl)and day(hawk). Carefully watching there playing feild both night and day. careful in your practice of falconry that you dont become their prey once in thier ring. Glad to see you went ahead and wrote of the birds.
EagleScorpion
Senior Member
since 2000-03-08
Posts 1644
Here, Now, Forever
2 posted 2005-02-04 05:58 PM


deep

i have to read this again. makes you think

dreamlike.. almost surreal.. but isnt everything?

nakdthoughts
Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200
Between the Lines
3 posted 2005-02-04 06:01 PM


I don't think I was breathing through this whole poem until the end...

M

Mysteria
Deputy Moderator 10 ToursDeputy Moderator 10 ToursDeputy Moderator 10 ToursDeputy Moderator 10 ToursDeputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Laureate
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328
British Columbia, Canada
4 posted 2005-02-04 06:04 PM


Sheesh, I need time for this one then I will email you my analysis     Heavy stuff, so damn sad, and very frightening.  Will look for a rainbow in it somewhere, that's my nature - I'll be in touch, but in the meantime here's ma and a suggestion to have warm milk before bed maybe?
Susan
Member Ascendant
since 2004-03-27
Posts 5104
walking the surreal
5 posted 2005-02-04 06:23 PM


- - - . . . - - -

a surreal sense of wondering - a soul in distress? - a deep sense of seeking? -  a dream quest? -

interesting images and deep down thoughts

Susan

If I wander far enough, long enough, will I finally know . . .

Gentle Spirit
Member Patricius
since 2000-10-09
Posts 13989

6 posted 2005-02-04 07:08 PM


I am pleased to see that you wrote it out Richard, and I do believe that Susan has touched on something very real in her comments.  Along with Soulfisher I too believe it a symbol for you. As to what, only you will find that answer as you travel into that journey.

Heres hoping it is full of rainbows for you,
and now that you wrote it, perhaps
a peaceful sleep will come to you.


The greatest beauty on earth, is
found in the hearts of those
who love....

Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049
California
7 posted 2005-02-04 11:59 PM


Richard

I believe they were signs....and also know that time may be the only one who can tell you what of.  As for hope...there is always hope...just waiting for the ice to melt so it can float up.  

Aenimal
Member Rara Avis
since 2002-11-18
Posts 7350
the ass-end of space
8 posted 2005-02-05 12:41 PM


perfect end to a perfect piece

I sit on a dwindling ice floe
while something dry, invisible
seeps from the corners of my eyes

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