| my job to get rid of the body |
[Jun. 26th, 2009|12:22 pm] |
 *Not sad today, just reworking an old poem and thought I would share.
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my job to bury the body
once a stout stupidly stubborn hero
my old self
forever a survivor
clutches as if to drown me
it is my job to get rid of the body
even though I am not yet dead
i put tape over my old mouth
to stop it's useless truth
stuff what i knew of love
under the floorboards
and roll a rug over my tomb
lay down your arms, warrior
yield your yearning to ghosts
let the hollow take yesterday's eyes
and let this be your lullabye
soon all flesh will loosen
and your straining frame
become powdery soot of recollection
let my buried bones
be seeds for spring
my job to prune my old love
as a shade tree for all who may wander
cross such a reluctant grave
my job to get used to the smell
the clutch of ghost heart
the tears in my food
for these too shall die, so they tell me
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rhon drinkwater © 2008
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| Comments: |
![[User Picture]](http://l-userpic.livejournal.com/68775385/14055808) | From: ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) buz1
2009-06-26 05:32 pm (UTC)
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I like it
Why thank ya, Buz. :)
Poetry is the only place for my kinda blood and thunder. I never liked this one much cuz it's kinda "poor me" pitiful, but I did write some intense stuff while mourning losses last year. That is how it felt when Love would say "but... but" and I had to choke hope in order to live.
This is great. it really moved me. I know what you mean about not wanting to write things that sound self-indulgent, or self-pitying, but years later when you personally are over it, these poems will continue to resonate for other people. Because they are raw and speak to the emotion of the moment.
And I think that's the best kind of poetry - it captures a fleeting emotion or observation.
I try to rosen my bow and pull a chord that vibrates in a way that is the same for all of us. Thank you! :) | |
