We take the stolen pocketknife
From our pocket
The blade is dull
But sharp enough to carve
A sonnet on our skin
It is like brushing sand
Smooth
Soothing
Something that works
We have the taste of metal
In our mouth
Time is frozen and empty
We recall the grove
Which is green and blooming
Birds on the wing
A veiled kind of blossoming
We are not afraid of pain
But we are tired
Of suffering
Sleep is the only release
Dreams and nothingness
Fourteen lines
And rhyming couplets
Something we will never achieve
We wipe the blade
Put it back in our pocket
There is always a way out
That gives us comfort
We like the mother of pearl handle
The weight and slide of the blade
Today we did something important
Tonight we will dream.
Your poems amaze me, awe inspiring. Thank you for the gifts.
ReplyDelete"We are tired of suffering." Yes, there comes a point where we have suffered enough. I love "tonight we will dream." Will e you tomorrow.
ReplyDeleteI really like the way you close this piece and some stellar stanzas earlier too.
ReplyDeleteI was especially taken by:
"The blade is dull
But sharp enough to carve
A sonnet on our skin
It is like brushing sand
Smooth
Soothing
Something that works
We have the taste of metal
In our mouth
Time is frozen and empty
We recall the grove
Which is green and blooming
Birds on the wing
A veiled kind of blossoming
We are not afraid of pain
But we are tired
Of suffering "
And so lyrical and knowingly heart-felt too...
For me this is poetry as it should be - Just up my street!
Luv the mix of rebellion and longing for tranquility
ReplyDeleteHaopy Sunday Jae
Muchđź’–love
I don't care for either pain or suffering myself. I'm sad to think that chronic suffering must be relieved by immediate pain.
ReplyDeletePeople lead such hard lives yet there is beauty in the midst of it. Brutally honest, as they say.
ReplyDeleteToo many are carving "a sonnet on ther skin" I remember when tattooed people were in the side show tent at the carnival.
ReplyDeleteThere is something absolutely arresting about this.
ReplyDelete