This is wonderfully creative, Rebekah. The last stanza and ending is just superb. My first read I thought "Rebekah must have hit reply too soon''' Or a line vanished, or something came up in the midst of your writing, but as I read through it a few times, it came to me. A perfect ending to the journey of this seductive poem. Thank you!
I can so relate to this. Feeling like nothing is connecting but I too have the experience of things that seem like the worst things in the world turning into openings that couldn't have happened any other way.
Thank you for your welcoming invitations, Lisa, to reflect, read, write, and share. Even in the midst of difficult days and the fog of long covid, your loving spirit reaches out to us all, scattered across the land. Prayers and heart songs for your healing and recovery into good earth soon.
This particular poem that came forth feels awkward in a way, and I'll keep working on it, but here is an early take:
“Who do you think you are?”
A lifelong refrain, often spoken
in self-righteous indignation
or a revolving rhetorical rhapsody
spilled forth when I have stepped on a metaphorical foot,
Oh Larry, I love this so much! I hope you will always talk to yourself in the cover of your own heart and mind (I love that way of putting it), and that in doing so, you'll always find that "love that never ends." I'm so charmed by the second to last stanza and your internal answer to the affronting question of "who do you think you are" . . . "I don't know . . . I am still becoming." What a perfect and true response!
This is wonderful, Lisa. I like the shfiting of the perspective from "to me" to "for me." and seeing as shadow and hard times as doors, not walls. Your poem is thoughtful and seems so appropriate for these times, when whole worlds seems to be shifting for so many of us. Traveling in the wilderness is the htgeme for church tomorrow in the larger context of finding beauty in a broken world. Your poems always help me find the beauty in this world. Thank you!
Thanks for the poem and the encouragement to shift perspective.
I shared the poem in another Substack that I subscribe to, Sarah Wilson’s “This is precious”. She’s been writing a book there… facing the multiple crises we’re in, navigating a way through.
"Alone observing the gray shadows / Of others / Others trying but failing / To connect with me." This is a beautiful, aching end to a beautiful poem. Connection can be such a fragile, fickle, right-in-front-of-you-yet-just-beyond-reach thing.
Don’t Make it a Story
.
The long hike, the mishap,
the special bird (seen or
heard), the sunset, the swim,
October’s blinding yellow,
January’s hush.
.
There is no audience
hiding in the rocks
or submerged and listening
from teal eye of tarn.
This is your reel alone.
Delete plot points,
mute the
My brain is DYING to know what got muted at the end! Which speaks to the creativity and power of your ending.
Fine, I'll tell you. ;) It's "narrator."
This is wonderfully creative, Rebekah. The last stanza and ending is just superb. My first read I thought "Rebekah must have hit reply too soon''' Or a line vanished, or something came up in the midst of your writing, but as I read through it a few times, it came to me. A perfect ending to the journey of this seductive poem. Thank you!
That ending is really so effective, isn't it?
Yes, remarkably so!
Fuck that window
You claim to always open
After slamming the door
in my face.
Memento mori.
You still hold the record for saying the most with the fewest words, Chuck! I love your poems, and this one is no exception.
Packed and powerful, Chuck, and these few words have me thinking hard.
I can so relate to this. Feeling like nothing is connecting but I too have the experience of things that seem like the worst things in the world turning into openings that couldn't have happened any other way.
It's amazing, isn't? The worst things in my life are often also the best things in my life.
May this serve the awakening
May subterra synapses be sparking,
Firing and forging new paths to unknown
and unbelievable destinations
Ooooooh I love this! And may they indeed!
Very nice, Rebecca! I am amazed and appreciative of poets who can communicate volumes in a few words!
This is the kind of reframing I'm trying to do as well, and your poem captures that feeling so beautifully.
Thank you so much, A! And I love the way the word "reframing" conjures an image in my mind of someone framing a door within a wall.
Thank you for your welcoming invitations, Lisa, to reflect, read, write, and share. Even in the midst of difficult days and the fog of long covid, your loving spirit reaches out to us all, scattered across the land. Prayers and heart songs for your healing and recovery into good earth soon.
This particular poem that came forth feels awkward in a way, and I'll keep working on it, but here is an early take:
“Who do you think you are?”
A lifelong refrain, often spoken
in self-righteous indignation
or a revolving rhetorical rhapsody
spilled forth when I have stepped on a metaphorical foot,
or pushed an invisible button,
or refused compliance to the powers of the day.
And most certainly, when I talk to myself
in the cover of my own heart and mind.
^
I want to answer “I don’t know…”
I am still becoming,
finding surprises in the wilderness of my spirit,
evolving awkwardly into what I’ll be tomorrow.
Aren’t we all works in progress?
^
But I know what I am not.
And it is not this:
Cruel, lethal hand stealing light
from every ounce of beauty;
bringing suffering that will last lifetimes.
This day, full of shadows and sadness,
may my answer be,
for just a glorious moment,
a love that never ends.
Oh Larry, I love this so much! I hope you will always talk to yourself in the cover of your own heart and mind (I love that way of putting it), and that in doing so, you'll always find that "love that never ends." I'm so charmed by the second to last stanza and your internal answer to the affronting question of "who do you think you are" . . . "I don't know . . . I am still becoming." What a perfect and true response!
Thank you Lisa! Your exquisite leadership and insightful prompting gently open the space for our poems to emerge!
This is wonderful, Lisa. I like the shfiting of the perspective from "to me" to "for me." and seeing as shadow and hard times as doors, not walls. Your poem is thoughtful and seems so appropriate for these times, when whole worlds seems to be shifting for so many of us. Traveling in the wilderness is the htgeme for church tomorrow in the larger context of finding beauty in a broken world. Your poems always help me find the beauty in this world. Thank you!
Thank you, Larry! "Traveling in the wilderness" (or finding beauty in a broken world) is such a perfect theme for right now.
Lovely
Expansive
Thanks for the poem and the encouragement to shift perspective.
I shared the poem in another Substack that I subscribe to, Sarah Wilson’s “This is precious”. She’s been writing a book there… facing the multiple crises we’re in, navigating a way through.
your poem really resonated with that
thank you
Thank you so much for your kind words, Nicole, and for sharing the poem in "This is precious!"
This is a beautiful poem and so wise
Thank you, friend!
I like this
Thank you, Marguerite! ❤️
Don’t need a prompt other than last nights dream.
Female friend tells me how other female friend is telling others why she is angry at me because of what I said.
I reply, that is not what I said. What I actually said was misunderstood though my words were precise.
Shall I run or shall I walk
In this Smokey landscape
Of misunderstanding
Of miscommunication
The smoke burns my mind’s eye
Whether walking or running
As the fires of human interaction burns
Darkening the light of the sun
In this hazy smoke
Of misunderstanding
Of miscommunication
Whether walking or running
I do so alone
Alone observing the gray shadows
Of others
Others trying but failing
To connect with me
"Alone observing the gray shadows / Of others / Others trying but failing / To connect with me." This is a beautiful, aching end to a beautiful poem. Connection can be such a fragile, fickle, right-in-front-of-you-yet-just-beyond-reach thing.