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Jun 2012 · 891
The Jealous God
Zach Sanders Jun 2012
Half lidded eyes discourse the truth of what they’ve seen
With a mind hidden under the blanket of a jealous god,
Who steals it away to play in an undergrowth
Of brambles and branches that tear away at the layers of sense
And leave a mass that feels and grasps for what it left behind.
Truth disjoints, the pieces fit in the wrong places,
And the jealous god laughs at the wondrous puzzle
He caused you to craft.
He says come play with me, just try to chase me away,
Just try to make that mess a mind again.
And the eyes unwittingly close, unable to fight this god,
Try as they might to tell the mind the truth.
The chaos of a thousand sights descend
To tell the truth of what they’ve seen.
But pieces still refuse to fit, the mind sees what it will
As the jealous god laughs away.
They play through the night, the mind distraught
To see these things it has not seen.
But then the soothing god spreads its banner in the sky,
And the jealous god quails and runs away.
The brambles break, the eyes begin to tell their tale anew,
And the pieces fit again.
And the mind laughs and plays with the soothing god,
Who says come play with me, I’m here for you all day,
As the jealous is kept at bay, waiting for the strong to go away,
That he might reign and play the mind a completely different way.
Written literally as I was falling asleep.
Jun 2012 · 832
Steps of Love
Zach Sanders Jun 2012
Weaving through these memories, I glimpse...
The plains I lied in to watch the clouds,
When I really just watched you.
The woods that floated in fog before me,
While I floated in your eyes.
The ocean waves I trespassed,
As I swam out to your smile.
The desert sands that stung my eyes,
To make you a mirage through my tears.
Volcanic fires that would have melted me,
If I had not already melted in your gaze.
The ice that clawed my warmth away,
And gave it back when it reached my heart
And saw how much I loved you.
Weaving through these memories I glimpse...
A darkened room and lying on the floor,
As silently her hand slipped into mine.
The theater playing Casablanca,
When suddenly I felt her head in the soft spot on my shoulder.
An empty scene filled only with
The kiss of an angel.
The blindfold on my eyes,
As her whispers tickled my ears.
Falling away into dreams,
As she softly snores beside me.
A ring slowly sliding on my finger,
From the veil that hid her face,
But could not hide the joy between us.
Weaving through these memories I glimpse...
Six jobs, two apartments, and one house
We shared together.
The wrinkles etching themselves in our faces,
Though they still couldn’t hide our dimples.
The times we argued....and always came out stronger,
Even if we didn’t agree.
Falling in love again,
Every time we watched Casablanca.
The most wonderful and utterly frightening news I’d ever heard,
Which is just what she said after she’d gone to the doctor.
Two infants, two kids, two teens, two adults,
Because though they’re the same,
Each left their own impression on us.
Weaving through these memories I know
She will always be the one I loved without end,
Through each of these steps of love.
This was meant as a kind of answer to one of those "where do you see yourself in 20 years?" questions.
Jun 2012 · 636
My Body Is The Body
Zach Sanders Jun 2012
My introduction lies in calming blues and not-as-pearly whites,
A placid start that speaks of safety,
Of the deep ocean memories from when our ancestors were fish,
Warm in the cold,
These eyes the hook to draw them out of you,
The hook to keep you interested past
These whites, which should remind you
Of the dream we dream our ancestors have gone to,
Of the joy in meeting the big fish of their day,
But that the gates have slightly yellowed in their age.

How soon the introduction ends now and
My body is the body that you read,
A fiction built from hourglass ageless sand,
Perfect, but for time removing beads.
These strongarm muscles still retain their shape,
These calves still speak of lift with legs not back,
And yet those beads through time escape,
They shift beneath and leave a sack.
And while these sands of youth leave,
The weighty rocks come fill their place in measured time
And make up for that loss with leaden legions of their own,
Forgetting what had come before.
They could be ground down, back to sand again,
But clothes can hide the time it takes till then.

My conclusion is not truly mine.
I give you my ocean,
I give you my gates,
I give you my story in time,
And I give you my hand,
A look,
My voice.
My story ends where you choose.

Until you read me through again,
And this time pick page 22.
This poem started with the inspiration to use my appearance, my body, as the body of a poem.  However, I also wanted to play with structure, hence the broken sonnet in the middle.
Jun 2012 · 515
Meditations on Walking
Zach Sanders Jun 2012
When one looks up,
It is to say
“Show me the wonders of these heavens, God.
I revel in your skies and clouds
Your birds and flies
Your towering trees
Your sun and your rain.
I look up to see these wonders, God.
For even if I stumble,
Even if I lose my way,
The delight I find in looking up again
Shall far outweigh the pain in my fall.”

When one looks down,
It is to say
“Show me the wonders of this Earth, God.
I revel in your beasts and bugs
Your leaves and dirt
Your rooted trees
Your bright and dull.
I look down to see these wonders, God.
For even if I miss the sky,
Even if your wonders greet me dead,
The satisfaction I find in watching how I walk your path
Shall far outweigh the beauty that I miss."

When one looks straight ahead,
It is to say
“I know of your wonders, God.
I have reveled in your grass and green
I have reveled in your birds and blue
I revel in them still.
I look ahead to see the infinite, God.
For even if I miss these heavens,
Even if I miss the Earth,
I still can see the horizon ahead,
I still can see the path I will go,
And the calm I find in knowing you surround me
Shall far outweigh the delight
Shall far outweigh the satisfaction
Shall far outweigh the rest of you that lies behind my view."
Jun 2012 · 535
A Dream of Brothers
Zach Sanders Jun 2012
Eyes closed, the first thing I know is the smell
Of the ocean waves
Battering against the hillside cliffs,
That blend their way into a grassy plain.
And all these smells I know.
The waves I hear,
Crashing into caves
To make the thunder come without a storm.
The wind passing so softly
That it whispers where it’s been.
And all these sounds I know.
But I open my eyes, and the first thing I know
Is the vastness of these waters.
Two paths, a high road and a low,
Along the cliffs that stretch the coast.
And the hawks eyeing rabbits on the plain.
And all these sights I know.
Then what comes into focus just before me,
To interrupt this time of solitude?
A brother, yet myself, and his dear love.
They laugh, they smile, they kiss,
And beckon me to join them, as my brother says
"You are my brother and my father, for you made me,
Though you study in your loneliness.
This love you see...You can know what joy this is!
You can know the love we have..."
But all these sights and sounds I did not know.
Of what this brother spoke I could not hold.
And while they held each other tight,
I made my way to find myself alone.
Yet everywhere I walked they followed close,
And pleaded for the sake of love,
Until with tears I pushed them back upon the edge
Of all these cliffs that I traversed.
The action followed...that I did not know to do.
They laid on stones above the waves,
And I began to walk away, the absence tearing at my soul.
The pain wrenching tears out from my eyes,
Until no longer could I keep my half away.
And in that space my brother came again,
And brought with him a love I did not know.
As two in one I learned to live and love,
And as I woke, the first thing that I knew
Was the feel of the tears on my cheek,
The smile that slowly opened on my face,
The feeling of a heart complete.
And all these things, right then, I knew.

— The End —