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ormondPoems
Dear Pablo, as I look over my soaking body, wet, with patches of dirt, blotched and raw bleeding, the clouds turn in my yellowed eyes in order to love you, my Pablo.   You, who made me feel radiant.   As I am the sea,  I fish for you, rolling in mud, and becoming mountain, I topple for your toes who'd dig in deep and itch my aching breast to sleep.  My dreamful-drowsy birds, rake the skies, rush-out like nets wanting you on their wings, my poem. Pablo, I loved you so when you said, my flowers were little stars to pick, and that loneliness was a train who waits in a far-away station, and how, my most minuscule attributes — a cat, a pear, the atom, you praised, in odes, heaped like showers hailed from heaven, as fresh- water you reigned from the other side of tears, and temper'd my salt, my green, murky life.  Dearest Pablo, since you've gone, my breath has the emptiness that hides under stone.  And the blue-winds crossing, my life- less age, they are nothing but long waves, keening,   —  Nay   —  rood   —   ahhh! Since you have left me.  And my trees, they forget how to grow, my song, my only, Pablo.
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Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 4:36 PM UTC
To Pablo Neruda
Dear Pablo, as I look over my soaking body, wet, with patches of dirt, blotched and raw bleeding, the clouds turn in my yellowed eyes in order to love you, my Pablo.   You, who made me feel radiant.   As I am the sea,  I fish for you, rolling in mud, and becoming mountain, I topple for your toes who'd dig in deep and itch my aching breast to sleep.  My dreamful-drowsy birds, rake the skies, rush-out like nets wanting you on their wings, my poem. Pablo, I loved you so when you said, my flowers were little stars to pick, and that loneliness was a train who waits in a far-away station, and how, my most minuscule attributes — a cat, a pear, the atom, you praised, in odes, heaped like showers hailed from heaven, as fresh- water you reigned from the other side of tears, and temper'd my salt, my green, murky life.  Dearest Pablo, since you've gone, my breath has the emptiness that hides under stone.  And the blue-winds crossing, my life- less age, they are nothing but long waves, keening,   —  Nay   —  rood   —   ahhh! Since you have left me.  And my trees, they forget how to grow, my song, my only, Pablo.
#love#poetry#beauty#wonder#wisdom#fable#neruda#elegy
ormond
Written by
ormond
Irish
Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 4:36 PM UTC
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