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April 19, 2011
The betreyal
coming back from the woods where I buried the beating heart, deep in the moist heaving, holding soil. I left it while it still bled in narrow streams falling, moving further within . A lonesome ceremony of acceptance that poets do upon arrival to the deepest corner of the woods In celebration of needs, wants, longings , separations and angst, joy and pleasure all and all. In celebration of a life afforded in currents of winds, burns of fires , the bliss of loving and angst of a pause summarised in death. Though we don't believe in death unless it blooms in transition, journey of birth.
would you have called me, if you did not know my name. If you met me at a gathering, succumbed to shadows and lights , standing, kneeling, sitting or otherwise. Would you have called me if you heard my voice, my words, the sing song of my sentences and how they wonder looking for their purpose. Would you have known me, mid sentence, eyes half close
sitting, standing or otherwise would you have known me, if there was no introduction in civility or otherwise, You might not know .................... however I know...........You would
It seems he is decaying inside and his bones are softening , he is smaller now and his cheeks and forehead stand out against the thin dry cover of his skin. There is no grace in dying, it is such a civil treachery, a betrayal , ruthless but not for its mannered elegant pace. Its a undoing, piece by piece, inch by inch, the dagger dances so seamless and so slow, its a witchery bought and sold, taken and followed. There is no grace in dying , the foundation falling apart stone by stone till pain make death a pleasure. wanted , desired.
And maybe there written on the paper the words begin to live, to open up whispering the secret, and all the numbers and equations at last come to even out and you find the words; Love, Life, Springs, Colors, Flowers, Music and you get to read them loud looking up content in the smile of the teacher and the ring of the bell that reminds you its time to go...........
Posted by Idinraha at April 19, 2011 02:40 PM
Comments
A number of images here, heavy, poignant and perhaps even hopeful. All beautifully rendered. All memorable. All moving.
Posted by: Clover at April 20, 2011 10:53 PM
"The Woods are lovely, dark and deep
but I have promises to keep
and miles to go before I sleep
and miles to go before I sleep..." Robert Frost
"'Many a gem' the poet mourns, abides
forgotten in the dust,
unnoticed there;
'many a rose' regretfully confides
the secret of its scent
to empty air..." Charles Baudelaire
This piece brought to mind 2 of my favorite poems so I thought I should share. You have lots of different transitions here, and the second part is very different than the first. It almost changes scenes, as you would...I love the end. Its a rainbow at the end of a storm. Hope. There is comfort in death, if one looks at it in a different light. I think that would be to enjoy the miracle of living before the end is here....
Posted by: jen at April 23, 2011 01:12 PM