The bells bend
On the back of the wind
Outside the supermarket
Queue
I change my feet
My heart
Bends
I would rather lean
With the birds
And the dead sheep
Its head broken
On the back of the tree
The bird can not land
Stuck in flight
Wings bent
I did not make the flight
stuck stuck sticky
To the metal rail
To the bridge
To the wind
Wind so strong
Nothing can take off
Or land
I change my feet
The horrible man shakes his head at me
Like I am bad
I know I am bad
My heart
Bends
I prefer time in numbers
Not
In hand
stuck stuck sticky
I meet St Peter
Behind the supermarket
He holds my hand
As the water
Fills my bed.
This is a gritty and profoundly sad piece of writing that seems to mix your alterworld with the disappointment of reality. Not all the allusions are clear but most sad and telling is preferring time in numbers rather than in hand. Let's pull a cracker together and see what pops out.
ReplyDeleteThank you OldEgg..pulling a blog cracker with you..not keen on the paper hat..but the joke is quite funny..
DeleteThe horrible man knows little of what he sees and understands even less. St. Peter behind the supermarket... not fond of that meeting. And the stuck stuck stickiness makes me sad. I would treat the wounds with a sweet, soothing balm and wrap the one in soft cotton wool to protect her from the wind and cold and demons new and old. And she would heal. She will.
ReplyDeleteThank you Kim..I think she would like that very much.. x
DeleteWind so strong...nothing can take off or land. I can picture this. Not enjoyable at all.
ReplyDeleteI find myself wondering what St. Peter looked like behind the supermarket...he does seem like a comforting presence. I hope so.
My best to you, Jae.
Maybe any saint is what we need them to be..thank you Mary..and good wishes to you..
DeleteCant get my head round this one Jae. It sets a mood that is definitely not seasonal - whatever that means. My bestest greetings, anyway.
ReplyDeleteOr maybe it is seasonal..it is a hard time..especially if your sense of belonging lurks behind the supermarket..but on that cheery note..happy happy to you Altonain..
DeleteSometimes "things" get bent out of shape. With the holidays, we have expectations, forget to look with wonder...we are surrounded by miracles, often we cannot see them. Just as the miracles that we are, often we are not seen. The world passes with the wind. Lovely and sad piece. You always write with wonder!
ReplyDeleteAnd you are wonderful..thank you Annell..love to you all in Taos.. x
ReplyDeleteThe feeling of bending, of being driven in a direction that one does not want to go, of being trapped is strong in this poem. But though the wind prevents anything from taking off or landing, it will not last forever.
ReplyDeleteSo true Abigail..what a gentle and uplifting comment..and love the new profile photo! Thank you..
DeleteFor you...
ReplyDeletehttp://www.kimnelsonwrites.com/2012/12/24/precious-and-divine/
Thank you Kim.. Much love back to you x
DeleteWhat the horrible man thinks is of no consequence. It is Saint Peter who kindly takes the hand of all who need it.
ReplyDeleteWishing you much comfort on this Christmas!
Thank you Ann..and much comfort back to you also..
Delete