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e-leandra-corderoPoems
A star has stowed away In a part of my heart The sky being this large, blunt chart With the bright backbone: a strip of powder cloud And the fussy dust beneath our boots The chaparral under foot Blooming purple, dry, splitting the cough drop earth Red rock by rock Our talking warms me The taste of mint julep and tea We, sweet past times: all they matter Had a nail between us to hammer faster There could have been curtains in our home Were we grown; Cantaloupe soaking in the sink To string up at the brink Think of how dry it got The plants in their *** Unwatered, untouched Living as such-- Meanwhile, the clock combusted Pounded out notes upon every hour Its golden limb swinging up, lilting, wilting in its tower Life deployed beyond this, grazing every flower Their implicit movement stalls; My nights wrapped in my shawls Dark timber bark laments In the fire so well spent Rocking, I have remained here; From the farthest port You came with teeth and things That fringe Deliberate and outward bending, which scorches Retires on porch swings Shares time, stolen from what silent world may be out there Bundled, told: "Handle with care." But I do not care to pick at straws, or to stare Between your eyes, The lines beneath them The calligraphic flourish Touring deep, steeply descending The tiled smile, pretending Creaking, scarcely there and perishing; I have not uttered your name In the dark of this home I have printed it, though, on occasion In the pictures I hang On the walls of this tomb Painted path, fire we fashion All the bits of compassion lodged like salt in my bones Only thinking of your thoughts Sipping slowly from your cup Shuffling to the border in the corner of the world Where the blooming sky is hastened In its spatial recreations That has fallen falls again, Calling back, fiercely contend Dynamics of a spark A black hole tears itself apart The where we are, the where we start; Oh, Come the Day we might Give less regard to light Were I to move to where you are Across the room, one room too far It seems to me that I, in staying Have distended what was fraying Yet I stay- at least today And may tomorrow bring the rolling, cetacean clouds back into orbit May the sun fall with the rain May my love call back again; Once more, I think, Once more.
0
Dec 12, 2011
Dec 12, 2011 at 8:24 PM UTC
Curtains
A star has stowed away In a part of my heart The sky being this large, blunt chart With the bright backbone: a strip of powder cloud And the fussy dust beneath our boots The chaparral under foot Blooming purple, dry, splitting the cough drop earth Red rock by rock Our talking warms me The taste of mint julep and tea We, sweet past times: all they matter Had a nail between us to hammer faster There could have been curtains in our home Were we grown; Cantaloupe soaking in the sink To string up at the brink Think of how dry it got The plants in their *** Unwatered, untouched Living as such-- Meanwhile, the clock combusted Pounded out notes upon every hour Its golden limb swinging up, lilting, wilting in its tower Life deployed beyond this, grazing every flower Their implicit movement stalls; My nights wrapped in my shawls Dark timber bark laments In the fire so well spent Rocking, I have remained here; From the farthest port You came with teeth and things That fringe Deliberate and outward bending, which scorches Retires on porch swings Shares time, stolen from what silent world may be out there Bundled, told: "Handle with care." But I do not care to pick at straws, or to stare Between your eyes, The lines beneath them The calligraphic flourish Touring deep, steeply descending The tiled smile, pretending Creaking, scarcely there and perishing; I have not uttered your name In the dark of this home I have printed it, though, on occasion In the pictures I hang On the walls of this tomb Painted path, fire we fashion All the bits of compassion lodged like salt in my bones Only thinking of your thoughts Sipping slowly from your cup Shuffling to the border in the corner of the world Where the blooming sky is hastened In its spatial recreations That has fallen falls again, Calling back, fiercely contend Dynamics of a spark A black hole tears itself apart The where we are, the where we start; Oh, Come the Day we might Give less regard to light Were I to move to where you are Across the room, one room too far It seems to me that I, in staying Have distended what was fraying Yet I stay- at least today And may tomorrow bring the rolling, cetacean clouds back into orbit May the sun fall with the rain May my love call back again; Once more, I think, Once more.
e-leandra-cordero
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e-leandra-cordero
Dec 12, 2011
Dec 12, 2011 at 8:24 PM UTC
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