samedi 14 février 2009

Repudiation Song


Do you think this body
has anything to do with me at all,
this heart that throbs
its seventy beats per minute,
this blood thick and coarse, these uneven rhythms like ocean,
this veined arm full of scars raised over my head for effluence,
these rubber ribbons wrapped
'round it and pumped up large with
green vinyl and frail wires, then gauged and recorded like
every nickel-and-dime thought
in the daily diary I try to keep?

This heart is not an organ at all,
no, not a thing beating for a season
but an idea that sings with every
breaking dawn and blazing sunset
I've seen, as I sit on the rocks west of
all my travelled highways and
brokered mountains, somewhere at the edge of a world where
time itself stands still,
a second bleeding into hours,
colors bent wider with light,
and the mind quiet as twilight
in blind anticipation that
hearts will again pump blood and
tides will be drawn in and out,
as we give ourselves over to
our great mother
and trust her to fulfill her gravitational pull.

Nothing but nothing is what it
seems, for each thing stands as
a
representatative idea. So what do i have to do with this body,
this hot blood, this muscular heart,
the elastin of my arms,
when i am in love with the silver moon and her symbolic works?
And I tell you,
nothing, except this heart so full it hurts.
And what do i have to
do with pain at all but love?
And what do i have to do with
death or birth when i'm a bird
with
an endless ocean to cross and a song for every season?

14 commentaires:

enudelman a dit…

really great, dense, and powerful poem, Laura. You've used a difficult construction (interrogative voice which is often used poorly, but not here!) to portray the speakers uncertainty and draw the reader into your struggle and you've deftly ended the poem with the speaker's 'only way out,' as it appears, which is to rest in her own identity.

Stirling Davenport a dit…

I enjoy this poem so much, Laura. It is more like a song than a poem, I think. The alliteration of the lines and the way they seem to float above each other on the page forms a kind of "wave" for the idea of lifting off from gravity with the mind of song. Lovely.

Kathryneo a dit…

Very powerful and dense, Laura.

I am hoping you can write about joy more.

maxbeta3zaman a dit…

I have read this poem together with the previous one ( I need a poem ) , this one is the good answer to it, here you look at things and facts by a diffeent look , you see it in a diferent way , you see things in its sesational function not the physical one and that is the great sense of a poet > I loved the idea of time stalling then bleeding seconds & hours , you see, poems come to mind when you have a storm of ideas that srikes your mind ,and shakes your feelings only then you can write a poem and ( a good one)

Boris a dit…

this poem truly sings Laura, love the wondrous imagery and the bittersweet ambience of resignation, acceptance of life's ways and the neverending striving for transcendence.

Pisces Iscariot a dit…

each thing stands as
a representatative idea

This is a sculpture chiselled from a solid block if words! Fantastic!

Louis Flores a dit…

I like this poem, of the ones I've read, I think this is my favourite.

Moineau En France a dit…

thank you to each one for your comments. i was particularly unsure of this poem because it was quite a departure for me on an emotional level. as you noted, kathryn, i'm not used to writing about joy, although i used to be. in order to do that, i had to "repudiate" this body and, as ed noted, reconcile with my own "true" identity. i saw in this poem the former yogi i once was. perhaps that is "my way out", ed, to embrace the spiritual again, stop crossing my fingers. (a bit of an inside joke)

i will note that the poem was initially twice as long on paper, but not really: i just combined the line below with the line above and it seemed to work well, setting it apart in form as well as fond.

yes, a song, stirling; the title came long after the poem was written, so i picked that up too. i'm so VERY glad you liked the direct statements, pisces; i always worry they are too didactic but i think sometimes they set my poems apart, in as much as that is possible (vanity of vanities).

thank you, max, this is why i write so many bad ones lol! thank you for your warm analysis and comparison. and boris, thank you for your enthusiasm and that beautiful phrase "striving for transcendence". i think that just about summarizes my whole life!

luisito, te voilà. merci beaucoup pour tes mots. j'espère que tu as eu un très beau jour de saint-valentin car tu es tout coeur! à paris en septembre! je ne peux guère attendre notre rendez-vous! ((((louis de l'autre astoria)))))

love and thanks. xoxoxoox ~lt

Ron B. a dit…

Oh, yeah Laura. This knocked me out...

Moineau En France a dit…

thanks, ron. nothing makes me happier than knocking you out! it's true! xooxxoox

r. walker a dit…

GREAT POEM SWEETY....IT LEFT ME FEELING LIKE MAYBE LIFE IS WORTH LIVING AFTERALL....

I LOVE YOUR SITE..IT JUST LOOKS SO GREAT!! THE LAY-OUT , THE PICTURES. EVERYTHING....JUST GREAT!!!

Moineau En France a dit…

thanks, my sweety. you make life worth living for me! xoxooxxoox

Kira Mountjoy-Pepka a dit…

Hey, Laura! Now I'm blogging too! Can I link to you?

Moineau En France a dit…

kira, dear woman, link away! i look forward to reading you!!! xoxoxox