A Room

[dks]

A Room

been forging it since i could see,
looking, plundering, rifling
for what i always know
no one can see

same tang and spice of girlhood
that color of night when summer day cools
faithful smell of lawn and honey—
petals sticking to many smiles

with my skin thinner now
from parades of touch,
i crawl and hide
inside the belly of a storm front,
begin engineering my harbor

carving a hollow of memories,
hewing out a gulf expanse
of phantoms—

ache of trouble deep in every bone,
stars smudged across sloe eyes,
rub of wind over grateful muscles,
the love of ghosts, unseen bursts of suffering

all of the likes of these
furnish my retreat of speech—
my aftertaste of open space

see—
in the bloom and yawning of my mind
there is a room for you

[Saturn]

Jaw-droppingly excellent as ever...

I stand in my shoes and wonder just how you do it.

[dks]

you're too kind, good man...as always...

[AsphodelElysium]

*Withering in envy at your talent*

I particularly love this part:

ache of trouble deep in every bone,
stars smudged across sloe eyes,
rub of wind over grateful muscles,
the love of ghosts, unseen bursts of suffering

*Sigh* Its gorgeous.

[Brave Archer]

Always a pleasure

[dks]

...yikes, you guys...please...you know I'll get hit by a bus! Thank you both, humbly, for even taking time to glance at it...

[Brave Archer]

Even more than your poetry, I love your humility. As if you don't know.............your poetry is amazing.

[dks]

Even more than your poetry, I love your humility. As if you don't know.............your poetry is amazing.

BA, you're way too kind...really...and, anyway, poetry is so subjective, you know? What one thinks is great verse another thinks is too vague or convoluted...and so that is, I suppose, the enigmatic beauty of art--it can appeal to many different people's sensibilities--or not--and yet it is still born out of some semblance of inspiration...thank you a thousand times for taking time to read it!

[steffen]

Like your poem, In Between, you lead us into your own special time and place. And you do it so well. Your startling Invitation to gaze into "the bloom and yawning of my mind" reveals a magnanimous, universal soul. Your poem is a room, a very human room, a mysteriously haunting mindscape of the anxiety of the unresolved, and of delicious uncertainty. Could I exist there?

Take care.

[dks]

Oh, too kind...too too kind.

And you know-I was thinking recently that my dribble is getting old...seems too subjective, no? I am more than happy that you like the contents of my head!! Thank you a million times!