#sustaining
^words of Wislawa Szymborska
(a phrase from her poem “Some Like Poetry”
———————————
gorge on poetry,
thereby!
imbibe your raison d’etre,
if well examined,
one will be exclaiming:
Exactly!
we on trial from birth,
for having been born sin~innocent,
yet guilty for having allowed
in nighttime light pollution,
one searches for places in
life’s momentary memorabilia,
band~aids, orange lifesavers,
a phrase, photograph, pale bulb light…
these “things,” are our
hitching posts, lean~to,
grasped hungrily for
support whence
negotiating the
steep Spanish Steps
of the staircases of
monumental outrageous misfortune
this poetry,
this poem,
this railing,
sustaining from Day One to
Day T+1 and beyond,
a protuberance of strength
to grab onto before the
shaming of old fails falling,
a head banging despair of barely
hanging on,
unbeknownst to you passerby,
we, who live a life of bare bones,
only mimicking existence, while
questioning Death’s delayed arrival,
and only by,
this poetry,
this poem,
this railing,
sustaining our edge two forward, one back,
cognizant of our awesome missteps,
begging permission, to-liv-liven, a moment more,
offering upon-this altar, a sacrificial lamb,
this poetry,
this poem,
this railing,
sustained in the writing thereof,
expelling the fumes of the
nearly, the never, the hapless hoping
Thu Oct 26 2023
8:15am
Jan 5, 2024
Jan 5, 2024 at 11:21 AM UTC
I open this blank Word document.
Its white expanse a challenge I am not sure I want to take.
But now I’ve got two lines - going on three
will this be the seed of a small green sprout of a tree?
This page is a bright sky
beckoning me to take a breath
at first shallow barely containing enough oxygen
to sustain sitting up.
But writing is like breathing to me
I do it most of the time without much effort
inspiring and expiring
here in this white desert
one line at a time
minute by minute, day after day
trying to find something worthwhile to say
worthy of my time as I sit here growing older
or your time to pause here in this blooming desert
never quite sure if it or I am worthy of the fuss.
But isn’t writing the thing that sustains us
no matter its poetic patterns or rhythms or rhymes?
Writing is breathing to me and do it I must. Lots of times.
Feb 25, 2019
Feb 25, 2019 at 10:56 AM UTC
I breathe memories of every feeling,
A heart pumping emotions through my veins,
Inhaling air of heartache for healing,
To feel nothing but feelings eases pains.
Nourishing my hunger with my loves lost,
Sustaining myself on passionate thought,
Feeding on my feelings at any cost,
Sated by feelings the memories brought.
Loves old and love new are my source of life,
The deep passions I’ve had fill up my lungs,
With strengthening heartbeats beating on strife,
While the sweetness of loving is the tongue’s.
No need to eat or breathe yet still survive,
To be in love is all I need to thrive.
Dec 22, 2018
Dec 22, 2018 at 8:25 PM UTC
[Verse I:]
I cannot always tend to the love
I’m parched and faded on my own
chasing dreams I can’t get a hold of
crumbling through the journey of the unknown
I'm trying to get out of this hole;
To dig through the other side.
It's out of control, I know
Only thing keeping me strong is pride.
[Chorus:]
I hope love is smaller than this
to grow on its own
bloom in the shade
to be there when I am alone
I’m surrounded, ensnared
smothered from above
make me tiny enough
so I can fit in the love
[Verse II:]
The city is wired so tight, constantly on.
It’s charges weaving patterns I cannot see.
Somedays I fall, I’m nearly gone,
Unable to stay above the waves of electricity.
But the love, can it be wound,
It’s tick humming me to sleep.
Or is it's life so unkind
It would dare leave me incomplete
[Bridge:]
Is love set, ready to chime on command?
Does it sleep with the moon and wake with the sun?
Does is dance with the snow and smile with the bud?
Does it walk a long with death hand in hand?
[Verse III:]
And over time the love can ripen and blush,
and it's vines come peaking out my sleeves,
But until then, can I poke it deep down
into the earth in my chest and just leave.
To just take a sip and have it wake me up
would make me fear for what’s next to come,
But I would lick my lips, getting every drop,
For both of us to jump and succomb.
[Chorus:]
I hope love is smaller than this
to grow on its own
bloom in the shade
to be there when I am alone
I’m surrounded, ensnared
smothered from above
make me tiny enough
so I can fit in the love
Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 11:03 AM UTC