I lie lye lie in my bed
Watch the leaves fly away
Like gold dust falling from your hair
Like a dream dripping through my hand
She asks
I cross the ocean of my mind
Search for an answer that may keep her safe
Tin mine
Tin heart
Tin can
Tin man
No more leaves will fall through our bed
I was too scared to keep a piece of her
To hold tightly in my pocket
Nothing left to give
It held our dreams
It kept us safe
Counted my breaths
Tick tock tick tock
Faint pulse
Caterpillar crawling up the stairs
Alive
She asks
We look out the window
Search for what was never there
Fondle her coffee cup curls
Like our love
I will keep them with us
Just inside the gate.
How beautiful and emotive your writing is Jae. It is so full of stunning metaphors and personal feelings.
ReplyDeleteThank you kindly Old Egg...now to apply to the 'real' world
DeleteThis pieces expressed so much sadness. I used to live in a beautiful wooded part of the city, and they wanted to make a new expressway, and took down many trees, they loaded them into trucks, like dead bodies, and too them away, as if it was just anything day. My little part of the world was never the same again. Trees are important, they should ask before removing them, as the creatures that live in them, and ask those who love them.
ReplyDeleteExactly so thank you Annell..you really don't appreciate what they gave until they've gone...but yes loaded into a truck like a dead body was exactly how it felt and looked
DeleteSo sad, Jae Rose..."where will the butterflies land?"....It hurts my heart when the trees come down. Here in Canada, where we still have old growth, they cut them down, their roots sticking up, like they are pulling the wisdom teeth of the planet - then they ship them off to be pulped into telephone books and toilet paper - a sacrilege. Your poem speaks right to my heart. Which hurts, every day, as I pass trucks loaded with our disappearing trees.
ReplyDeleteWisdom teeth of the planet - what a fantastic description..and yes..how very futile some of our actions are as a species...thank you kindly Sherry...maybe we are planting word trees :)
Delete"There is no word to express what I do not know"
ReplyDeleteHang on. Maybe there is but you just don't know it...
I think you've had tea with Alice J Cosmo...hope you had fun...now to solve the riddle...thank you...and ouch my head hurts from thinking what it is ;)
Delete"coffee cup curls"---what warm, visual imagery :-)
ReplyDelete"coffee cup curls"--what warm, visual imagery :-)
ReplyDeleteThank you very much counsciouscacophony :)
DeleteAbsolutely exquisite ... this poem deserves a much wider audience - it is breathtaking
ReplyDeleteThanks very much Pearl! I'm very glad you like it...and always glad you visit
DeleteLike the speaker in your poem I'm feeling so very old too. I suppose it will pass...away...
ReplyDeleteSurely not Magical..there's life left in us yet! ;)
DeleteOh what a bittersweet poem that is because maybe the dying tree did have to cut down. Another way to look at it
ReplyDeletehttp://thequietone.net/2014/09/20/heart-of-gold/
Thank you Cathy..sadly the tree was Alive and well but maybe she will sprout in a nicer spot
DeleteWould it be cheesy to say they land in our hearts and minds..that's where they can be kept safe...I realise the song now...takes a while for me to catch on...shall try and open your YouTube link....thank you Elizabeth
ReplyDeleteNot cheesy at all. That's why we have to get 'in' to get 'out'. Butterflies are a symbol for the four distinct stages of transformation. And few of us do not balk or try to stop that process for fear we are not worth the effort. Oh crap, I just answered my own question, lol...see what you do?
ReplyDeleteElizabeth
I can assure you it's entirely unintentional - but thank you for answering yet another one of the multitude of questions that fly around my head... :) thanks Elizabeth
ReplyDeleteThis, especially, is haunting, and beautiful:
ReplyDelete"Where will the butterflies land
She asks
I cross the ocean of my mind
Search for an answer that may keep her safe"
Thank you De...it seems different reading it in your 'voice' thanks.....always nice to turn around a pretty phrase every now and again - although I draw the line at frocks...
Deletei want to cry when they murder the trees, the leaves like beautiful rainbow tears pasted to the ground, the house, my heart. i did keep a piece of her, trembling beneath my pillow, and she always returns...
ReplyDeleteI am so very glad you did...rainbow tears pasted to the ground - poetry in itself thank you Shauna
DeleteBeautiful and sorrowful... marvelous poem. It reaches me right in the center. I feel the wistful grief and the appreciation of special love that does not leave. (Tried to leave this comment the other day, but my computer crashed.) Well done! Wonderful writing.
ReplyDeleteThank you nan - and for coming back...special love that doesn't leave...isn't that a a wonderful thing..but so sad yes when it is gone..thank you
DeleteAs if the yellow brick road has turned to rust...but still it is there... Sadly beautiful...
ReplyDeleteThank you Gemma..what a magical coment...
Delete