didn't the taken rib open your heart cage
to a needy desire
for something other
more than
eden
breathing the golden air
nothing you named would answer to you
our secrets unsung, unslobbered by your cataloging tongue
you do not know me
or where the squirrels hid the seeds
of the quenching fruit, at the root of it
*


Salon.com
Comments
do you ever do readings?
I think it would be fun to hear your physical voice saying your beautiful words.
but thank-you for this. happy 2012
wonderfully sardonic, interesting music choice, thanks for both this morning.
Fusun ~ Thank you.
Rita ~ Ah, sardonic sounds smarter than exasperated. Good morning in this new year.
I have self-consciousness about my voice too. I did a few recordings of my poems when I was lucky enough to have a terrible cold over christmas. :) I call these the Tom Waits versions....and they're my favorite versions of my own work.
you could always try this the next time a virus takes you down.....if you have an iphone you can even record yourself on the voice memos and the quality of recording is surprisingly good.
but even if your voice is like minnie mouse (! ha! mine too....) it would still be fun to hear which words you pause on and which you linger over. it's amazing how many meanings there are in poems and a voice reading adds those levels of interpretation...
As you've done many times before, you left me standing with my mouth hanging open, mumbling something stupid like "oh, wow..."
heart cage? I love to look at the ideas that float together in your poems.
When one chooses the indefinite or myriad meanings, line breaks or punctuation that offer ambiguity can be difficult to read aloud effectively - sans wiggling one's eyebrows or winking. Sometimes there's something - whispers and echoes around a word/meaning/idea - that, short a greek chorus, a writer can only murmur into the chasm and hope someone hears. Sometimes a reader hears the unintended or unspoken, which is interesting in its own poetic (remembering the word poet comes from the Greek for "maker") way.
I've had laryngitis a few times in my life and always loved that stage when my voice got husky and deeper - I think everyone else loved the next stage, when it disappeared altogether. So maybe I'll try hanging out with the unwell this winter. Or I could just go full on into cigarettes and knocking back whiskey...
in ... and out ... and in ...
something other ...
more than ...
all ... all ...