(In celebration of National Poetry Month, I am sharing a poem each day this month.)
Sunflowers
Sunflowers by Martha Jordan
My eyes flipped through the list of names
And I saw your's, your picture surfacing in my memory
But my heart did not skip a beat
My cheeks did not brighten with blush
At a thought that I did not remember.
I did not close my eyes and see that room of comfort
Your hand was not on my shoulder
Your face was not mere centimeters from mine
Your existence did not overwhelm me.
I saw your name on that list of long night conversations
But I did not want to speak
I did not even want to look.
Have you been replaced? It is possible.
But are you replaceable? Impossible.
your name is
always before my eyes
always on my lips
always in my mind
but never in my hand.
Never next to mine.
Never next to me.
No matter how many times I
See your name
or write it down
or sing it out loud
or scream it with pleasure
It will never be my name,
And I will never be yours.
Understanding will never be
as comfortable as your bed,
but it will make seeing your name tolerable.
(In celebration of National Poetry Month, I am sharing a poem each day this month.)
Your Absence
Separation by W. S. Merwin
Your absence has gone through me
Like thread through a needle.
Everything I do is stitched with its color.
(In celebration of National Poetry Month, I am sharing a poem each day this month.)
Pieces of Blue
What I'm playing with today: scraps of a linen jacket, Doug's striped shirt, a piece left from making a linen dress for Adeline, a pair of linen pants, some lovely vintage polka dots ... crosses, circles, blue, squares ... linen, stripes, patterns ... groups of three, groups of nine ... some of these elements we find since the beginning of time.
I don't know where I'm headed with this, but I assume I'll get there. Sooner or later.
A Prior Despair
A Prior Despair by Scott Cairns
After Kavafy
When I saw that I had lost her completely, I sought the dulcet
taste of her on the lips of each subsequent woman, her fragrant
flesh in the fold of every lover's nape thereafter, and her heat
welling with my own and drawing out an urgency in each
ambiguous woman met in that tortured interim.
When I saw that I had lost her I was lost, and held
my eyes shut tight that I might so delude my wits as to trust
that it was she receiving me, that it was she returning
with delight the urgent drive against the unbearable
distance--two bodies, struggling toward agreeable repose.
Then, tasting once a sudden kiss so suddenly presented,
I saw another prospect rise to view, and knew reprieve
from the familiar ring of hell, from which I rose and marveled
at the offer of another life whose heat and heady fragrance
rose, delirious to burn deliciously, and not consume.
(In celebration of National Poetry Month, I am sharing a poem each day this month.)
Whisper
Love Poem of Flowers by Victoria Maretti
Whisper
Drop peonies in my eardrums
Sew violets under my skin
Take all my fragrance in and
Exhale
Pave a path of fuchsia petals
We’ll share baths with chrysanthemums, lilies, hydrangeas
And crown ourselves in wreaths of all the roses.
(In celebration of National Poetry Month, I am sharing a poem each day this month.)