stars swathed across a bed of birth and questioning

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Elizabeth Cor
Senior Member

since 2000-10-13

Posts 879
Over the river and through the woods

0 posted 2001-08-20 05:39 PM

Plains of my hands
(piano fingers, spider-crouched,
palms with lines enough
to seem to have been birthed
though shattered windshields)
crossed
one-over-the-other
on the soft of my belly.

Were I to feel
a squirming,
some beating that
harmonized to my own,
  that sipped from me
  to gain its form,
would they tingle?

Would my veins
swell with some magic:
feminine in design
and invisible,
completely vanished,
from the stubborn perceptivity
of maleness … ?

I think
in a  yes
as one slides
up a thumb to
touch my breast
(undersided,
as I lay sprawled
atop the bed, crown of my head
directing my hair to the floor)
rasping its terrain
to linger in little quivers
on my collar bone

the contact seems
to ignite interrogations;
as if one patch of skin flipped up the switch
in my brain that turns my
examinations outward

Of many wonders:

My skin,
stitched without seams,
and the electricity underneath.

Pulse nudging my pinkie,
I imagine my heart,
ponder who has counted its beats
and still collects them.

Other pictures gathered and slit open under the ribs:

Stars:
  the dust that holds wishes,
lust,
  contemplations enough to black it all out
(if the queries were all the size of pin heads halved)
the symbol of lovers,
infinity, god

Were they brushed away by obliteration
yesterday,
we would hold the light of their history for
the length of three more lives of our world

One streak across the sky and I consider
how many deaths?

Was that a yellow sun? Did it play divinity
for a green and blue planet, or a red one, or
a slick black rock holding one survivor?

Blink.

The inquiry of me now:

A dream of being chased by dinosaurs
around the church camp, of Steve asking
me to the prom (and my unshaved legs).

Last night, you joking (halfly)
that I would have
to bear your children before
security eased my doubts.
And my swallowing,
speculating if that was
actually true.

To my hands again,
and the now:

squeezing, I test the flesh around
a hollow

that one day may squeeze back
filling with fluid, promise,
the end of solitude in my body,
life

Will it be yours?

My eyes yawn,
beseeching left,
reviewing the letter
written to my mother this morning
that finally,
after 22 years,
ended all the pleasantries
I have ever tried to use
to cushion my hate of her

I think of my reasons.

Then I wonder:

Will it be mine?

[This message has been edited by Elizabeth Cor (edited 08-20-2001).]

Nicole
Senior Member

since 1999-06-23

Posts 1835
Florida

1 posted 2001-08-20 06:00 PM

Honey - how about a superherohug? God, but I miss our conversations. Spinach will never be the same. And if you get a moment, EMAIL ME - I'm dying to know how you are.

Interloper

Member Rara Avis

since 2000-11-06

Posts 8369
Deep in the heart

2 posted 2001-08-20 06:14 PM

Hate is a terrible burden to bear. Why not put it down and walk away?

http://members.home.net/excalibur2501/interloper.htm

Cpat Hair

Member Patricius

since 2001-06-05

Posts 11793

3 posted 2001-08-20 06:28 PM

indeed a good write with strong images and a story tellers sense of carrying the thoughts...

I enjoyed this...

good writing...

Elizabeth Cor
Senior Member

since 2000-10-13

Posts 879
Over the river and through the woods

4 posted 2001-08-20 06:41 PM

*tears* Done, Nic. Oh, sighness, I've missed you too much.

~quarter-laugh, which comes out as a hard breath~ Oh, yeah there was a poem or something, wasn't there?

Interloper... ~small, tight-lipped mouth that wears the ghost (and by ghost, meant that it is hollow, dead, and barely visible)
of a smirk~ hmm.

Cpat, thanks.

shadow974
Senior Member

since 2001-06-21

Posts 636
Michigan

5 posted 2001-08-20 07:07 PM

Very powerful and well written poem, it was a joy to read.

Throw your heart out in front of you
And run out to catch it.
ARAB PROVERB

Janet Marie
Member Laureate

since 2000-01-22

Posts 18554

6 posted 2001-08-20 07:16 PM

You are such an amazing writer...
(and its very cool to see you posting again)
The imagery in this is so impressive...
you blew me away with the first verse...and there was so many more gifts to be found.
This is such a complex, layered, piece and encompasses so many emotions and moments of self discovery.
A very personal piece of work, yet so much of it others will relate to...
Very well written and expressed and of course nothing cliche can be found here.
Good luck to you as you work thru all this...
I would tell you the answers lie with in you...but by this honest writing...I know you already know..
Take care Poetess Cor
jm

Poet deVine

Administrator

Member Seraphic

since 1999-05-26

Posts 22612
Hurricane Alley

7 posted 2001-08-20 09:35 PM

It's nice to see you here again. This is so very personal, I felt like an intruder reading it. I too think it's best to just move on....don't let someone's past actions determine YOUR future....

Dr.Moose1
Member Elite

since 1999-09-05

Posts 3448
Bewilderment , USA

8 posted 2001-08-20 10:08 PM

Elizabeth ,
No words of wisdom , no flippant humor , no way to relate other than what might possibly be shared by many , many , others . Write it away .
Doc

Sven

Member Laureate

since 1999-11-23

Posts 14937
East Lansing, MI USA

9 posted 2001-08-20 10:19 PM

why bear it. . . because sometimes, we must. . .

I too, have missed your very introspective and thought-provoking writing. . . this is an excellent example of why. . . you do take the reader deep into your mind and soul, and dare them to remain. . . and, when they have proven worthy. . . comes the reward. . .

-------------------------------------------------

To the world, you may only be one person. But to one person, you may be the world.

serenity blaze
Member Empyrean

since 2000-02-02

Posts 27738

10 posted 2001-08-21 12:15 PM

There is a certain charm about a girl who has become a beautiful woman, and still does not realize it. You, m'love, are that kind of poet. I love the imagery of the spiderweb palms...(yep, I read those too) details, details....smile...but there are a couple of lines that need clarification for me---here:

"from the stubborn perceptivity
of maleness … ?"

I have to wonder about that one...maybe it's just the stubborness that convinces others of perceptiveness? hmmmm.....off to consider the implications here...damn, there you go making me THINK.

Love ya much, enough to type this with pine sol reeking dishpan hands...smile for me here...?

Elizabeth Cor
Senior Member

since 2000-10-13

Posts 879
Over the river and through the woods

11 posted 2001-08-21 01:22 AM

*SIGH*

I'm sitting here, cheek in my left palm, smiling ... and shaking my head.

Here is it that I haven't been able to write with my voice for such a long time that it felt as though it might be choked forever. And then, today, as I lolled about on the bed, a palm placed peculiarly on my stomach made me wonder of children, of the stars and thoughts I had while camping the other weekend, of that damn letter that I sent this morning and what I would reap from it…

... but, you know, during all those mental wanderings I didn't feel regret or pain or even melancholy ... but maybe, as I sat in a dark room bulleting out the words a bit crept in without my knowledge... otherwise, where would I get these replies of encouragement, motivation, of get-your-butt-up-and-go ',cause it's time to move on and your anchors aren't even worth pulling the chain, just whip the blow torch out, Baby, and sail!

It touches me in such a deep, tender, personal way, that I am almost stunned to silence. I don’t think any single or collective response on these forums has ever moved me the way every one of you has done tonight…

For each:

shadow,

a joy divided and shared is one fully experienced. Thank you.

Janet,

I read your response (as my roommate sat beside me) and blew kisses at the screen and laughed a soft, affectionate laugh. “Janet, I love you!” I said, and pulled her to the screen… in every response you give, I KNOW it is for what I have written above, and that verse only; but it is not only your care and attention for what is posted, but your insight and PERSONAL RELATION. Every time you reply, I feel like I’ve just whispered the idea to you in confidence over coffee and you are simply talking back to me in conversation. ~hugs~ jm, for making me always feel so warm and listened to…

Sharon,

As always: kind words and wise advice. Not an intruder at all, Sharon, not tonight… and *long exhalation* you don’t know how careful I must be about that last line of yours.

Doc,

Thank you, for the moderation…truly, it’s appreciated. Oh, and if I could only write it away… but write away I will…there’s no doubt in that.

Sven,

“you do take the reader deep into your mind and soul, and dare them to remain”

This is one of the most beautiful lines I have ever had written in response to something I have created. Thank you dearly, that was my reward.

K,

Oh, and WHAT am I to do with you? So often I hear things from your mouth (or fingertips) and wonder how in the world you perceived anything like that in me… and then I have to pout because I trust your opinion and perception enough to know you’re damned well right. And, yeah, I knew you read those … ~grins~ spiderweb palms, yes indeedy, and they say the more lines you have the more emotional you are… *sigh* I’m such a hopeless case.

Oohhh… THAT line… WELL, what I meant was that feminine sense is so divided from anything men conjure up as perception that it might as well not exist to them. And pregnancy is utterly and completely feminine (sometimes I think the word pregnancy should be invisible).

So, I am speculating on how it would feel to grow life inside you: would I be able to sense it? Would I notice the changes in my body with a sort of magical awareness? Would my hands tingle when I rubbed my belly, singing? And I answer yes to my supposing just out of some strange knowing…

And all of that: the life forming inside you, the magical sensation, the motherly aura…
“maleness” can’t touch it.

~rolling eyes~ and omg if someone takes this as some sort of guy-mashing testosterone-protesting rant I will kick yer butt back to the Alley and back. I LOVE D…. er, MEN! Okay? Geesh. (catch it, K? Huh, huh? Heh heh heh heh heh heh)

BUT "maybe it's just the stubborness that convinces others of perceptiveness?" Ooooo... maybe.

but, s’en? Enormous, sweet hugs to you fellow tree-worshiper, oh hon, your first line brought tears to my eyes and enough warm fuzzies to my heart to make me have to lint roll my shirt… love you. ~Kisses a pinesol reeking hand and smiles (after choking and coughing enough to dislodge a hedgehog)~

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