Friday, July 31, 2009

poem words of my other lost self

Jazz Prose

Water the flowers! Let the
sun shine warm. The breeze cool.
For today I am wont to wander.

A picture of you tripped the
floodgate. A picture of you
set the pace. A picture of
you freed me from
my daily existence.

Time traversed. Time eased into
a lull that removes the tick
tick tick. Time acting civil, like a
lady. Time open and accommodating.

An almost forgotten room.
The smell faint in my mind. The
colour faded in my eye. The street
sounds trapped in my memory’s echo.

You were the Queen of my
world, my mind, my soul. Ruling
unconsciously, beautifully, sublimely. I
don’t think you knew. I never
told you, properly.

That room. Of our conspired
pleasures. Us, hidden behind
thick curtains. Us, hiding from the phone’s
intrusions. From the outside’s bogeyman.

Hearts beating to our drummer’s
tune. Close and touching with no
anxiety of expectation. Talking w/out
words. Like a sister to a brother.

Your eyes of blue, shimmered.
Our skin was young then, elastic,
strong. Our stomachs flat upon
one another’s. Our kisses eternal.

How can ink and paper
possibly do justice to yr
spoken lips? To yr slight
muscled neck? To yr raven hair?
To you?

I found a picture of you.
Distant glance. Brief glimpse.
The past’s glare. My senses
rattled by who we were.

What cares have I of lost or
misplaced love? Chances
missed, opportunity’s last call.
Once we were on fire. Unstoppable
& unprecedented in our union’s desire.

I saw a picture of you
today. The onslaught of my
emotions overwhelmed me before
I could act. W/ you I don’t
mind. I never did.

Let my nerves sing, my heart
swell and inertia hold my
body. For today I want to
remember you. I want the
pain among the pleasure.

I can see you,
holding the room’s attention, down
to the minutest particle. Queen of
yr Universe. Essence connected to
Essence; direct line.

I can feel you, close like a
summer heatwave. Around me
and w/in me. As much me as
I could allow anything else to be.
Permanent like bedrock.

The conscious memory of you
comes and goes on its own
schedule. Fleeting and elusive
w/ a bottom end like teeth.
Sharp, strong, and potentially
dangerous. How appropriate.

Your form: Classic. Your
heart: Colossal. I am drowned
in yr remembered presence like a rainy day.
Safe and warm in the fold.

I am swimming in the warmth
of your memory. Every point
I want to make is
floating pin-like in the dark.
A galaxy of inspired wonder.

Monuments beyond syllables
should be erected to you.
Flesh offerings and sacrifices
beyond pedestal love. New
orders. I could tear down
the old.

I am living the memory
of you and it's like it was
today. W/ all the raging
melodramatics that love demands.
I feel like tomorrow corrected.

Your slightly crooked teeth
w/ their fuuuh sound when you
breathed in while thinking. Or yr
calm composure while yr eyes darted
taking everything in. These
are the subtleties I did not overlook.

Your hands soft as they seemed
to melt w/ mine. Your fingers
w/ mine a spider’s web of flesh.
Catching, holding, containing us. A
realm unto themselves.

A picture is worth a thousand
words. And each picture the
first invokes is another
thousand words. Thousands of thousands.
A staggering exponential.

I’m thinking of you as I’m scribbling
these lines. The rain is drumming
the beats of my heart. I’m
thinking of you. All because of
a picture I saw.