walking into walls
i’m not the best singer in the world
(my cats are happy to let me know this)
there are days all i want
is to curl into a ball (feline style)
and wait for tomorrow
or magic or a miracle or even
one tiny moment of escape
but this isn’t fiction
and you aren’t a hero
(things really aren’t that bad and i’m made of iron)
and then i start to wander (wonder)
through characters and words
and parceled-out syllables of time
parsimonious gifts that feed me
for days
(i always have a bruise on my forehead)
my legs keep moving
even in my sleep
i have no destination
and i’ve erased all my maps
(paper disintegrates)
i keep trying to cross the threshold of after
but i’m forced to make do
with this shiny clean
lace-curtained window
(the sky is invisible)
.
.
A poem a day for 30 days, in honor of National Poetry Month.
This post is part of NaPoWriMo.
Also joining in with PAD (poem a day) over at Writer’s Digest.
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Also linking in over at dVersePoets for Meeting the Bar,
with self portraits.
.
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April 17th, 2014 at 9:01 am
Love the “parceled-out syllables of time” and “trying to cross the threshold of after” … Beautiful
April 17th, 2014 at 9:27 am
i feel the sojourner spirit in this…the continuing to travel regardless…and bumping into walls…ha…i probably have a few bruises…but i sing regardless….
April 17th, 2014 at 2:52 pm
wandering and wondering lies so close together…and i don’t mind a few bruises…but never stop traveling…smiles
April 17th, 2014 at 3:28 pm
I love the way you put this (I have legs that keep moving even in my sleep,, too) and I can relate to most all of these characterizations…the lace curtained windows 😉
April 17th, 2014 at 3:28 pm
To want to curl into a ball and yet deciding to wander on… May you find new wondrous paths. 🙂
Wise, true to self and beautiful write.
April 17th, 2014 at 3:39 pm
An interesting way to see yourself. Good write. >KB
April 17th, 2014 at 4:11 pm
My favorite thing about this piece, the humanity of it. I have met a person in this, and I like them very much. Thank you for sharing your writing.
April 17th, 2014 at 4:38 pm
i have no destination
and i’ve erased all my maps…
these verses are like a punch. Beautiful
April 17th, 2014 at 4:43 pm
After each blink, it is still now, after moving, after arrival, you are there/here, perhaps dreaming of greener pastures, higher mountains, kinder company; a wonderful poem; like the lines /but this isn’t fiction/ & you aren’t the hero/ love the notion that writing is a balm to your discontent & restless legs.
April 17th, 2014 at 4:51 pm
I wish for magic too.
Wonderfully written.
April 17th, 2014 at 5:11 pm
wandering, wondering and bruises . . . there’s an autobiography in those three words alone.
April 17th, 2014 at 6:09 pm
I can understand the restless feelings in those legs ~ This line struck me most: i keep trying to cross the threshold of after ~
Good to know more about you Kelly ~
April 17th, 2014 at 6:09 pm
Oh.
You always find the best way to put things into words.
I love the image too.
April 17th, 2014 at 10:23 pm
this is one of the reasons i love you and your work. there are no destinations or answers and they are not needed. would just be in the way. i sometimes feel you have me by the hand and are showing me. and i thank you for that.
April 17th, 2014 at 11:33 pm
I think even is sorrow, there’s always a joy we find in singing.
April 17th, 2014 at 11:40 pm
Your opening line-ha! I’m glad you keep singing despite their opinions 😉 Lovely work…I so enjoy your words and photos…
April 18th, 2014 at 12:56 am
quite love “I keep trying to cross the threshold of after” – how perfectly apt ~
April 18th, 2014 at 1:05 am
and then i start to wander (wonder)
through characters and words
and parceled-out syllables of time
parsimonious gifts that feed me
for days
… oh yes. me too. lovely write.
April 18th, 2014 at 1:25 am
I like the paper disintegrating after erasing all your maps… the flow of this poem and its voice is beautiful.. It’s a nice way to see yourself, and must say I can relate to some of it… the wandering and wondering, the brusing (I’m covered in at least one ALL the time).. love crossing the threshold of after! Well done! 🙂
April 18th, 2014 at 1:51 am
Life is a wander/wonder-ment isn’t it? We move through one set of space while traversing the stars, the poems, the stories of others, the films, the books, the fantasies we share with cats, dogs, fish, birds and most of all the trees all to the music track of our lives. You capture that rapturously here.
April 18th, 2014 at 3:27 am
“and then i start to wander (wonder)
through characters and words
and parceled-out syllables of time”….these are my favorite lines…and the window to find the self-portrait of a poet….beautiful
April 18th, 2014 at 5:19 am
I can relate to this poem in so many ways. It fills me up and, unfortunately, brings out so many sad memories for me. I still go there occasionally, but I hope that what you’ve described – although beautiful – isn’t how you always see yourself and your life. Yes, I know about poetic license and all that – and I also know that when reading poetry we tend to project our own feelings onto the text we read, so perhaps it’s just me… I hope it’s just me. In any case (I should stop rambling) this really touched me.
April 18th, 2014 at 9:18 am
life so can be a puzzle… glad cats are there to keep us in line… LOL
April 18th, 2014 at 2:25 pm
Gosh, I really understand the curling up into a ball days, but I like your wry amusement and refusal to let self-pity rule your poem.
Especially liked the lines:
i’ve no destination
and I’ve erased all my maps
April 18th, 2014 at 3:30 pm
Didn’t you do well!
This is lovely, and unique.
April 18th, 2014 at 4:35 pm
i have no destination
and i’ve erased all my maps
(paper disintegrates)
– brought tears to my eyes –
K
April 18th, 2014 at 9:04 pm
seriously, i always have brasses on my legs.
April 19th, 2014 at 1:27 am
i love of course.. the cat curling up into a ball and waiting for morrow..but i love better to now curl up and simply be now..wherever the curl of life takes me…morrownow..
April 19th, 2014 at 4:14 pm
Not sure if cats are the best judge of vocal talent… 🙂
I see someone always on a quest for self-betterment. Lovely poem
April 20th, 2014 at 8:34 pm
Nice and rich details. Made me feel warm,