A Chapter From Our Lands
by The Juicer
Skipping water, hanging from trees,
They came to the village emptied,
Of city lights and concrete.
Wind shone pale cheekbones,
Brushing apple whites; Of color
they spoke, of worlds beyond, but never like this.
We would remember them.
Like the time they found,
The sleeping peacock babies,
The squawking parents driving us wild.
A discovery, well-known.
Their joy upon sun on thatched roofs:
A meager waiting inside their lives,
They said.
We would remember them.
Trunks under branches, playful toes twisted,
Idle days and concurrent dusk,
Laid down in pools of lakes.
The children of earth, not known.
Hiding in our gardens, seeking
the grass unfailing and green,
Folding and unfolding their arms, they said,
Just so we would remember.
To paraphrase, your words lay down in pools of poems.
All your phrasing, maybe what is the best singular quality of your poems, in all your poems, make me always thirst for more. Not that there is anything incomplete in each, but they are just so rich, like often only felt in dreams, that I yearn for more. Please, just fill me up with your words, I honestly say to you.
And the sense of relationship within the poem is… I can feel so much more than my words will allow to appreciate. I can feel that thread drawn with such yearning and taut with desire (maybe not yet realized).
Your poems are like one long continuous voice to me.
I just have to paraphrase myself right here, as well what I’ve said before, there’s only one thing more I’d like of you – simply more.
I don’t know your life nor the thousand reasons we face each day to do this or not do that. Neither would I twist your arm, like there’s anything that you should do; that would be just be not to appreciate who you already are. I can’t complain; only say I miss your voice.
(And sorry that somehow I missed this poem when you first posted it despite being subscribed. Pardon please.)
“Folding and unfolding their arms, they said,
Just so we would remember.”, as I remember you.
yours, neil
My turn to apologize :) I thought I had replied to you.
I don’t know how you do it (well it’s right here so it should be obvious), but you fill me with such encouragement. I have been inconsistent, flaky. But I will keep coming back. Sometimes, it’s hard to be where you want to be. Much fear, much self-doubt, much trepidation and deprecation. I am learning to enjoy all of these. Not whining in the least.
Above all, I suspect your wondrous and soothing comments have a lot to do with me being back here again.