I am all that I am
in the sky
in my feet
socks and ankles
body and care
wardrobe and paste
deodorant to keep me clean
chlorine
on my legs
itching like pain
Just before I sleep
I stretch
but lately it's
a convulsion that ripples
then the dreams
old body
like a chair
too many days of sunlight
have faded
the beauty
give a little rub
a microwave pillow
the body's going
to shiver and
groan
when it dies
I fear that god
is seething
with irony and
tasks undone
that god is bitter
and small and
worried
and it was (no!)
my watch all along
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4 comments:
Wow, I really like this... especially the parallel between your body and the chair faded by the sunlight. The style reminds me of the poetry Rosie O posts... SUPER glad I stopped by and got to read this.
Are you dying? Because I just don't think I could handle that right now, ya know. So no dying on me!
Nice poem tho :)
Thanks Erin!
Sassy - not really dying right now, just getting old.
Wow, this is pretty damned powerful. I look in the picture that's hanging right by my computer Armour and I can see the cracks and crevices of my face from pain and age and I think, wtf? And what the hell? And, who stole my elasticity? I want it back. And I want what I want when I want it, and I want it now. But life flows differently sometimes, and yet I have to believe that it flows just the way it's supposed to.
big fat love hugs to you Rainy, mucho grande love hugs, Lori
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