Post by annemarieirene on Dec 11, 2006 14:55:02 GMT -5
I searched for two poems that I thought I'd posted but I couldn't find them anywhere, but I guess I didn't! Here's one, It's written for my son, Isaiah ~ Two things you should know before you read it, are that, everyday my kids would ask me how much I loved them, and I'd say, "as deep as the sea". Then, I'd ask them how much they loved me, and they'd chorus together, "As high as the sky, mommy..." And the second is, that I no longer have my kids. Most of you who know me know the story... the post "Here goes" in the "pick out your cloud" section on page two is an explaination. Anyway, here's the poems:
(to Isaiah...)
all the questions you asked of me, thinking I'd never reply
were answered with passion, deliberate rote
every time i admitted you
all of the places you thought you'd seen once, with me once
upon a time, were visited frequently instead of the
places we actually were
those mornings the grain in your brain , rough sandy eyes that
KNEW they had been with me, weren't illusions; i could
smell you hair there
and warm summer breezes under my blanket, the insistant pressure
i felt when i yearned for your hand,
just your hand
Don't think It's Real, this "Life" you've been handed without me
I've heard all your cries and your screams and your gutteral
groans of dismay and also the soft, the softest of lulls of
your voice .."as high as the ...."
hang on.
________________________
And here's the second:
Mosaic
Practically hovering over (or instead of) the errant intent
i once had
Formally known as leave her alone
I fight crime sometimes (when I sleep) but the pension is lousy from
what i heard
Tentively raising my kids.. i mean my hand...I mean my voice
But still slickering through the days as if I have no concern for
the time still to come
braiding the hours at hand until my self bled
whispering my truth in case there was an ear with feet that was tappin'
it's toe to my beat
i don't know where this mosaic is taking me
(to Isaiah...)
all the questions you asked of me, thinking I'd never reply
were answered with passion, deliberate rote
every time i admitted you
all of the places you thought you'd seen once, with me once
upon a time, were visited frequently instead of the
places we actually were
those mornings the grain in your brain , rough sandy eyes that
KNEW they had been with me, weren't illusions; i could
smell you hair there
and warm summer breezes under my blanket, the insistant pressure
i felt when i yearned for your hand,
just your hand
Don't think It's Real, this "Life" you've been handed without me
I've heard all your cries and your screams and your gutteral
groans of dismay and also the soft, the softest of lulls of
your voice .."as high as the ...."
hang on.
________________________
And here's the second:
Mosaic
Practically hovering over (or instead of) the errant intent
i once had
Formally known as leave her alone
I fight crime sometimes (when I sleep) but the pension is lousy from
what i heard
Tentively raising my kids.. i mean my hand...I mean my voice
But still slickering through the days as if I have no concern for
the time still to come
braiding the hours at hand until my self bled
whispering my truth in case there was an ear with feet that was tappin'
it's toe to my beat
i don't know where this mosaic is taking me