today i was reading through some poems by Pablo Neruda (the image below is a Neruda quote). serious, serious love poetry! oh the art that love (and the loss of love) inspires is truly a shimmering, magical thing. poetry in particular has always been one of my favorite arts. i love how a good poem is whittled down to almost nothing - a skeleton of what it could be, and in this nakedness, this almost-nothingness, lies its beauty.
i've thus been inspired to post another piece of mine, as promised from time to time in The Poetry Project. this one is from 2006 (!!). i was a mere babe - with a small baby. i was, in 2006... 24 years old. i had a 1.5 year-old child and i was doing the best i could to navigate the lusty, wild years with my sweet child in tow. it was an incredible tug-of-war at times, i sometimes felt deep grief watching my friends immerse themselves in the reckless abandon of that particular era, while i napped and nursed, nurtured a golden light growing in a tiny heart. simultaneously, i had found everything i was looking for (a huge gift in a very small body) and so i felt a sense of peace and direction that so many others lacked.
when i look back, i see that i wasn't missing out as much as i thought, necessarily. and truthfully, i worked hard to build a life that was supported, loving, free and joyous - and for the most part, it was. though my own lusty and wild times had to be measured and planned, i still had them. love and heartbreak was plentiful, all during the era of one-handed-living (you know, the time when you learn to cook, clean and work one-handed because you're holding your baby all the time?).
the prose poem below was written, of course, at a moment of pure heartbreak. i look back on this particular hearbreak as one of the most glorious and deeply-felt lessons in my life. the subject is now one of my dearest friends - falling in love enabled us to root firmly in each other's hearts, ensuring our connection far into our various futures.
june 7, 2006, 12:49 am
inspiration vanishes. finally, at long last you have seceded from our union. hard as I tried not to, I have begun to forget you. moments of memory weaken, dissipate, disappear. (do you remember the time we hid, pressed together, behind the door?)
and now you are leaving. really leaving. not just leaving me, but leaving us. leaving on a bad note. I listen to you talk and I hear words, barely… mostly static. frenetic energy courses through your veins, through wires into my telephone. I long to look at you and feel the jagged edges of your being so that I might know what it is. but now, you hide.
so I move on to other men. again. a new boy, filling your void (why do I say that? have you left a void in me?) I’m grateful for the gratitude he gives, the kisses/the company/the calls. I still think of you, but in a more distant way. The back of my head, the corner of my eye. I don’t remember what you smell like.
I remember the look in your eyes the morning after we slept together. I knew that with that goodbye, you had begun to leave for good.
hot anger simmers with true love. desperation still. Reaching and reaching and reaching, blindfolded, and in the wrong direction.
You can read more about my Poetry Project here. I have some recent poems that i will post soon. gentle feedback is always welcome and appreciated...and how about you guys? does anyone want to submit their own work? email me if you are interested sometime...