swimmer
30 June 2009
3 Commentsheld tight to its mouth
its beak is sharp, I think
I swim in soup
bright ideas and lime
green algae that makes the air breathable.
Super-thought. Superman.
Digging so high
craters go missing in the night
the sky is awash
in roman art. I look and see that
he took himself too
numerically, sinking on a ship of
friends without boats
but oars we had in abundance
up a deep canyon, fine sheets of colors on the walls
drive a mile or two
then get out and walk
they have names for bright ideas
but none for me, who do not mouth them
my autistic ways will save me yet
such is the life of swimmers.
No better or worse for the trip, a maze
alight in a field of tricks
transparent hopes don’t dog us
except perhaps when turned around
oriented in mindless hope
but that is the only kind of human I know.
Sometimes slowly, I know what you mean.
But words go too far.
So nice to read a different approach at poetry on the site. Thanks for sharing. I honestly don’t see myself as
a poet or a writer but what I love about poetry is that it gets it out. It’s like instant therapy. No couch to sit on. No scheduling conflicts. Just to let someone listen. The words are listening and your poem forms the session. To me that’s how I use most creative outlets. They represent me. They reinforce my fleeting existence.
Also poetry can be read and reread. And countless poems can be burnt to a CD-Rom. They aren’t like huge paintings and installations that take up space. The only real space they take up is mental space. So with that I congratulate you for your fist poem on Globatron and hope to read more.
And now to your poem. I feel like I’m on a voyage. Driving. As if you wrote it on a commute. I don’t feel like there is any destination for the poem. Like I don’t feel preached to; like my poems come of I’m sure. It has great imagery and I can read each phrase separate from the whole.
There does seem to be a longing for friendship. A confusion in culture and ideas. Maybe not confusion but immersion. That you have hope for humanity but are cautious.
I could reread it later this afternoon and get something different from it I’m sure. Thanks for sharing it. I like the vagueness of it. I do feel like I’m in the car right there next to you.
this is beautiful, i love that you have returned to poetry, i remember the love you had for it many years ago, and your gift is still alive.
i actually think i know too much about the poem to have a useful thing to say about it.
* if you could add a title to the post, that would allow comments to be tracked.
akbar
great poem
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