it always comes back to the ungainly imperatives life throws at you
not like some striped summery beach ball, bouncy and rainbow bright
more like lemon meringue in the face - tart, sticky sweet and messy
or (surprise!) one of those icy hard snowballs from Hell, you know - after
the thing you somehow believed would never happen, has
it’s a shock the way sunlight insinuates itself among the shades
in the place where you’ve been hibernating, though it’s long since
summer - light seeps in and your wakening growls deep in you
so you must leave that place - dazed and groggy,
irritated, squinting, with the understanding you must find
fruit ripening in the wilderness and the flesh of your need
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the summer/winter juxtaposition, beach ball/icy snowball, hibernating/leaving the den for the sunlight -- masterful. and i think someone must have been filming me and my cranky, surprised, wounded self sometime last year. i relate to this poem almost as much as ras's "washing the elephant."
needing to wash your face
then looking for the shower
and knowing it won't get it all
wonderful poem
full of meaning for everyone
rated with love
irritated, squinting, with the understanding you must find
fruit ripening in the wilderness and the flesh of your need
that is what you will learn is the normal status quo.
unless you are one of those willing to do
something about it.
or about what is below status quo: insanity.
war is enslaved sexual energy. etc
just when we think we've mastered our humanity, flesh comes to laugh in our face
I do so like your tags. And the remembrance of hell as the windhall.
(and that title! I must come back)
and Bellwether's comment takes the cake (or pie, or, well...)
8-O
Which is not to say I didn't thoroughly enjoy the imagery and feeling I got from it :).
Rated for the eye of the beholder.
"Hallo, Pooh," said Rabbit.
"Hallo, Rabbit," said Pooh dreamily.
"Did you make that song up?"
"Well, I sort of made it up," said Pooh. "It isn't Brain," he went on humbly, "because You Know Why, Rabbit; but it comes to me sometimes."
how bears like honey
buzz, buzz, buzz.
I wonder why he does.
what you wrote is so fluid and lovely, and speaks of such internal churning that belies the beauty and effortlessness of your one word after another.
Just beautiful and poignant.
but also the takes on this page on it.
For me it's about awakening love, or is that desire.
Which or whatever, it's a beautiful thing.