Sep 04 2008
Random Prose #1
It was a warm breath at the back of her neck. A poem committed to memory, yet never read. It stalked her - followed her wherever she went. Ever present, yet impossible to capture.
Sometimes quiet, like a low hum that murmurs in the background. Sometimes as tempetuous as a summer lightning storm, crackling against a sultry sky. Usually it was a persistant song that hung in the air and whispered her name. That hovered over her bed at night and crawled into her dreams - teasing her, caressing her and forcing her sleep-heavy eyes open. To look.
But it could not be seen with eyes - only felt in the everywhere of the space. Waiting. Holding its breath and pretending it wasn’t. It was a mirror toward which she reached and was met with a duplication of her own outstretched arm. The heat that emanated from that reflection back at her said, ‘yes, I’m here.’
And she had conversations with herself about it - hoping she was simply going mad and soon would find a medication to turn it off and send it packing. Though she knew it was not madness, nor hallucination - it was real and palpable, dimensional, tactile, smellable, tasteable. With the ability to travel over time and space effortlessly, finding her wherever she was, wherever she hid. It was a surge of heat that shot through her core, found the place where it could nest and call home.
4 responses so far
No comments? Gee, I thought that was scrumptious. It spoke to me.
I haven’t stopped by here in quite a while. Maybe that’s part of it.
Take it easy!
well we have one now and thank you. scrumptious, what a great word. i know, i haven’t seen you in the longest time, lolly. how are you?
sarah
Wow !!
Just wow !! You write beautifuly.
A poem commited to memory yet never read. aww beautiful
Thank you
Love & Beauty
Di
thank you, di. so nice to see you back here. i worried it wouldn’t make much sense but maybe it does?
xo sarah
Its funny what the senses are in poetry isn’t. This writing makes great sense to me, that much sense that I don’t have any words, I wonder what sort of sense it would mean to others.
Hi sarah,
The reason I’m saying this is because I wrote my first grown up poem last week in a lot of years. By grown up I mean I wrote a poem with out rhyming words. I called it A million wonders a crack.
I read it to my friend and my daughter last night. I love it. I don’t even feel overly proud for saying so either.
My friend said ‘It’s Fxxxing shit Diane,pointless writing about a crack in the road’ and my daughter said ‘ You use the word crack to many times Mum, whats on your mind’.
They never got it at all, smiling.It never made sense to them.
Thank you for sharing your poetry here with us Sarah, your inspiring me greatly.I’ve not read poetry on line yet. Only been on line 8 year.Hehe!! I love your writing - keep it flowing. Its so beautiful.Thank -you.
Love Diane
hi di,
i’m so glad to hear you are writing poetry. that’s lovely. is the poem posted on your blog? i would love to see it. please let me know if you ever post it.
sarah
Yes I posted it last week.
Hold on, would you like me to give it to you here.I called it A million Wonders a Crack. Take a look at it on my blog. I love the picture I found to.
Oh !!
I just copied and pasted it here but I thought that this is a bit not right really is it. Putting my poem on your page. Bloomin eck ! I’m glad I relaised before I pressed send.
I would love you to read the poem. I feel you would get it. I think you and yes you in particular would know where I was coming from with this poem.
Loving your poetry Sarah
Di
hi di,
yes, i will go to your blog and read the poem, i would love to see it. i’m so glad you feel inspired to write poetry now - it is a wonderful thing to do with words.
love
sarah