Friday, February 15, 2013



I, too, am profoundly connected
to this person who died
way back when. I want you
to really know it. Feel it.
Later remark that your heart
begged, no more, please.
How you ignored it,
punk hunk of meat holding
in gory glamour
your certain death.
Ha! You could entertain then
thoughts of Brazil
and base jumping
and sweaty assignations
with whoever
lives in the apartment upstairs.
Imagine what it would be
to fall into nothing -
the excitement of another's oblivion.
See, I am bound
to that which erases.
To a brick wall. To the weird heat
of a strange bedroom.
Light which is not light.
Her touch will mark you,
you know it, you know it forever.
I think I mentioned
how often I weep.
And the blindness that comes,
then. I'm sure
I have shared this testimony.
It is terrifying
to unhinge my mouth, but I do.


Lynne Kennedy said...

"It is terrifying to unhinge my mouth . . . " Loved this poem, and this line in particular (but there were other with similar impact). Thank you for posting it.

Indigo said...

Grief embodied. I know it so well.

"You know it, you know it forever." And we are marked in ways, that will forever scar our hearts.

Beautiful eloquence sweet friend. (Hugs)Indigo

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Dr. kold_kadavr_flatliner, MD, the sub/dude said...

What’s the aplomb-filled-protagonist/the illustrious, exquisite Quid Pro Quo/the extraordinarily GODy, par excellence, with no expiration date and an IQ higher than K2? lemme tella youse a de-facto-story:

I gotta lotta tantalizing, mellifluous illustrations on 20 blogs…
and I’m more than happy to share,
to give to you what God has granted me - a steward
in this finite existence, this lifelong demise:

faith, hope, and love,
the greatest of these is love -
jump into faith...
and you'll see with love.
Doesn’t matter if you don’t believe
(what I write);
God believes in you.
God. Blessa. Youse -Fr. Sarducci, ol SNL
Meet me Upstairs where the Son never goes down…