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kyle-kulsethPoems
Gertrude, Stradbrook, River and Roslyn, off of McMillan, my thoughts froze on Osborne A drive through the Village on slippery streets Bought records, drained pints                         swallowed down summer nights Back home in Wyoming--think I'll be fine                          'til some night, filled to gills                           trip through streets with a stranger                           and sing "One Great City"                           through swollen closed throat And I remember... Confusion Corner, commuting through cold streets Watched you drive as the daylight died I narrow my Focus,                                      you eased into traffic The Assiniboine ran and was watched by Riel January. Johnson's Terminal. London Fogs. Took Yellow Dogs for long walks and Exchanged now for then. Snapped pictures, again and again. Snow up to my hips Spent a night at St. Boniface We cased a cathedral, your friends seemed to like me. Lines ran from reserves, over oceans and borders. Your hair ran down shoulders, brown waves for a blanket. Winterpeg, Manitscoldout Portage & Main Shivering, smiling at a Tavern Uniting with friends, 'til we took the King's Head... We took the King's Head. Long live the king. January. Magic Thailand. Curry soup, curried thoughts thawing, melting, falling from pickled brains,                       through lips chapping I donned my Tuxedo, chopped down Seven Oaks... Your Catholic heart spoke      reached out for St. James.      St. Vital answered behind Fort Garry's walls... Our hearts, they were neighbourhoods And the streets were all salt. Blistered paint on your blue '02 Focus To the City Center of the continent's middle Form a Perimeter Frame a city Bullseye, center, a Gold gilded Boy he leans into sky, as they sing, as I hear. The road North Ended--November, it was. I think, one year prior, in Robin's Donuts front doors swayed, on hinges that sighed metallic, I caught your eyes--organic, unplanned--                through fog frosting lenses Caught them, held on                Held your deep brown                In my gunmetal blue Seasons will chase--haste to follow more seasons White streaks to green and the Red River runs. When they score at the ballpark, "Go Goldeyes!" the cheer sounds Cheer. Cheer! The Guess Who still **** but the Jets completed their round trip "Go, Jets, go!" so the cheer goes. "Cheers!" Cheers like bells.              Bells            Pealing Peeling like your sunburnt back             Bells           Ringing            Striking Bells singing long Bells sounding loudly from Grace Bible Church   baptizing Baltimore as it kisses Osborne Bells ringing. Round sounds. Round rings for fingertips touching Bells Round sounds that hang on my neck and sing me to sleep every night-- remind me how badly you wanted those bells                 I denied you. They sing "Left and Leaving"              and show me old scars           they ring and peal and strike                          and sing                          unending. I remember March of 2008 Dropping my toque in the mud-and-slush street             We took Pembina Highway               Ate Vietnamese. I remember... Confusion Corner, Commuting through cold streets, Watching you drive as the daylight died In your blue '02 Focus Ease us back into traffic, The Assiniboine River. And Louis Riel. So tell me... Comment-allez vous, ce soir? Je ne suis pas comme ci, comme ça.
0
May 18, 2013
May 18, 2013 at 7:54 PM UTC
Re: Bells, My Note
Gertrude, Stradbrook, River and Roslyn, off of McMillan, my thoughts froze on Osborne A drive through the Village on slippery streets Bought records, drained pints                         swallowed down summer nights Back home in Wyoming--think I'll be fine                          'til some night, filled to gills                           trip through streets with a stranger                           and sing "One Great City"                           through swollen closed throat And I remember... Confusion Corner, commuting through cold streets Watched you drive as the daylight died I narrow my Focus,                                      you eased into traffic The Assiniboine ran and was watched by Riel January. Johnson's Terminal. London Fogs. Took Yellow Dogs for long walks and Exchanged now for then. Snapped pictures, again and again. Snow up to my hips Spent a night at St. Boniface We cased a cathedral, your friends seemed to like me. Lines ran from reserves, over oceans and borders. Your hair ran down shoulders, brown waves for a blanket. Winterpeg, Manitscoldout Portage & Main Shivering, smiling at a Tavern Uniting with friends, 'til we took the King's Head... We took the King's Head. Long live the king. January. Magic Thailand. Curry soup, curried thoughts thawing, melting, falling from pickled brains,                       through lips chapping I donned my Tuxedo, chopped down Seven Oaks... Your Catholic heart spoke      reached out for St. James.      St. Vital answered behind Fort Garry's walls... Our hearts, they were neighbourhoods And the streets were all salt. Blistered paint on your blue '02 Focus To the City Center of the continent's middle Form a Perimeter Frame a city Bullseye, center, a Gold gilded Boy he leans into sky, as they sing, as I hear. The road North Ended--November, it was. I think, one year prior, in Robin's Donuts front doors swayed, on hinges that sighed metallic, I caught your eyes--organic, unplanned--                through fog frosting lenses Caught them, held on                Held your deep brown                In my gunmetal blue Seasons will chase--haste to follow more seasons White streaks to green and the Red River runs. When they score at the ballpark, "Go Goldeyes!" the cheer sounds Cheer. Cheer! The Guess Who still **** but the Jets completed their round trip "Go, Jets, go!" so the cheer goes. "Cheers!" Cheers like bells.              Bells            Pealing Peeling like your sunburnt back             Bells           Ringing            Striking Bells singing long Bells sounding loudly from Grace Bible Church   baptizing Baltimore as it kisses Osborne Bells ringing. Round sounds. Round rings for fingertips touching Bells Round sounds that hang on my neck and sing me to sleep every night-- remind me how badly you wanted those bells                 I denied you. They sing "Left and Leaving"              and show me old scars           they ring and peal and strike                          and sing                          unending. I remember March of 2008 Dropping my toque in the mud-and-slush street             We took Pembina Highway               Ate Vietnamese. I remember... Confusion Corner, Commuting through cold streets, Watching you drive as the daylight died In your blue '02 Focus Ease us back into traffic, The Assiniboine River. And Louis Riel. So tell me... Comment-allez vous, ce soir? Je ne suis pas comme ci, comme ça.
#regret#relationships#nostalgia#memory#missing#driving#wanting#canada#manitoba#winnipeg
kyle-kulseth
Written by
kyle-kulseth
M/American
May 18, 2013
May 18, 2013 at 7:54 PM UTC
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