Day 21 – Taking a Stone Away

I’ve played with a couple of ideas today, but none have truly impressed me. So I’m just going to go with this one. The poem pretty much tells its own story.

NOTE: This is the first poem of the month not inspired by a book (I think after scouring dozens of books for inspiration for the past 21 days, I’m temporarily over them. To be honest, I’ve hardly read anything for pleasure this month, which is quite sad).

This game is called Song Title (so not that much different really 🙂 )

Stone Heart

side 1: a heart
ever since the resumed after
twenty years love affair failed
before it began — a stone
has sat on my heart ; despite

all your claims of missed love ;
soul mates separated ; being one
that got away & comparing
me to every lover since — none

of that meant anything once
you arrived — & so for two long
sad years , i couldn’t bear
listening to the band you said

we would dance to when married

side 2: break
no more death defying acts to please
you as you laughed from the stalls —
you delighted in making our love
crash & burn in the middle of main

street — so everyone soon knew
what a grizzly bear you were not
the wonder i’d sold them — so ,
i drank a little whiskey — & sure ,

whenever i wonder wherever you are
my heart beats slow other things
slow my broken heart too — but
take my word for it — at long last

i have been able to get home

boat CROP

April 18 – Day Eighteen: Easter ghosts

I saved a bunch of articles I was planning to use/explore in poetic form during NaPoWriMo. Yet almost every day, something more “personal” gets in the way.  Good Friday (the day this was written, was one of them.)  This poem was written in the car on the drive between Adelaide & my parents’ farm.

When I re-read the poem for the first time since posting it on fb almost a week ago, the irony is, the poem itself has a huge hole. The one thing I always think about at Easter is not including, other than through indirect allusions.  Maybe it works, maybe it needs to be addressed in May, when NaPoWriMo is over & the editing process can begin on all these half begun, half completed poetical sketches.  I want to tweak it even now, but will save that for later & repost as first put onto fb.


What I think of when I think of Easter

Looking over the litany of Easters past
I recall very few moments of chocolates & egg hunts 
Haunted by decades of bright eyed moons

Floating down houseboat rivers, discovering cunnilingus
Climbing cliffs, faking falls, tomato sauce for blood
Church surfing with fish laughing at services
Glorious joyous days before he finally died
Driving overnight interstate thinking I was driving to true love
Some lost at the bottom of a bottle
Crashing cars in suburban streets
Several lazy long weekends at the farm
Amusing my nieces, annoying the rest
Walking with a black dog, before meeting my souldog

Tonight the moon’s a ruddy oblong egg
Low, ghosting the hills, as I drive north
What is life but a succession of wounds
Public crucifixions, little deaths, lying in darkness
Trapped beyond stone, & eventually rising to do it all again

What pains me are the holes
Years I can’t remember – when I’m the only constant
No other person or thing to act as yardstick
& the holes

Lovers lost, friends forgotten, children never held

*****

blood_moon_by_darkriderdlmc-d4rzhrg

Image: Dark Moon by darkriderdlmc @ deviantart.com