To My Lion, From a Grateful Billiard Ball (A damn long poem...ever so sorry)

Discussion in 'Poet's Corner' started by BelovedDreamer, Aug 4, 2006.

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  1. BelovedDreamer

    BelovedDreamer Well-Known Member

    It was a beginning for me
    But it was only ever an ending for you.
    But I am not ready!
    I am not nearly ready.
    Not prepared for this ending
    I ask you
    Beg you
    And you must know
    I tell you now
    I hate to beg
    So much I hate to beg
    That there are precious things
    Infinitely beautiful things
    That I would rather lose
    Than beg to have.
    I am a child in this
    And a woman
    Prideful and arrogant
    And fragile.
    I want to get on my knees
    And supplicate
    Raise my arms to you
    And make it not an ending
    Make myself yours
    So that I might have my forever for always
    Or even just
    For now.
    For now would be good
    Better than for never.
    I don’t want this to end with regret on my breath.
    It tastes too much like you
    Foul in my mouth
    And I’ve had too many panicked moments
    Wondering if
    You are alive and laughing
    Or alive and crying
    Or dead
    With blood on your hands
    Rotting in the ground.
    I want you to live
    Live and be beautiful
    Live and be strong and shine
    And burn and smolder
    So dark and so bright
    And so true.
    You had so much life when you burned
    So much power when I knew you
    I want you to be strong and happy
    That’s all I want
    Well not all
    But it is what I want most
    Aside from the selfish things
    I want for myself.
    Like you.
    Wanting you is selfish
    But can you blame me?
    I blame me
    And berate myself
    But I can’t stop the traitorous turn of my thoughts
    Especially when I sleep
    I dream
    And there you are
    And there I am
    A child’s dreams
    And no good
    When searching after a woman’s heart.
    Can you hear me now?
    Like the commercial.
    Can you hear me now?
    I somehow don’t think you can
    But I worry
    (You may have noticed I’m good at that)
    That my voice
    My voices
    Reach you
    And pelt like raindrops
    And you wish for an umbrella
    To keep you safe from the rain.
    And I feel transparent like that
    Transparent like water
    Soft like water
    Inexorable as the flood
    My hunger would make me weak for you
    I would like to cook
    To serve you up a feast
    And show you that I lied
    A pool hall lie
    That I tell you
    Hoping you’ll teach me
    What game it is we’re playing.
    Click against the fear in me
    Click click
    Like pool balls
    Billiard balls
    Twirling my hair
    But I didn’t bat my eyes
    I just tried to cry.
    I wanted you.
    Did you know I wanted you?
    How could you not have known?
    I reeked of want
    Shook with it
    Like I shake now
    Like a meth addict denied a fix.
    You are my fix
    My drug of choice.
    I’d live for you
    But I think that is a silly reason.
    I keep something
    Small and special
    A treat for your love
    Not for you
    Though by proxy
    It is
    Meant for you.
    The world smells
    And my eyes are the color of mud
    And I wonder if
    They can see anything at all anymore
    Anything but mud and slough and slime
    And how wretched people are to each other
    I know my eyes are still green
    That green-grey that is not my parents’
    And is solely mine
    Out of the living
    My living family that is.
    And I wonder
    If your eyes are brown
    And I wonder
    How I could’ve gone
    Without noticing.
    The things you don’t remember.
    But then
    I never really allowed myself to look
    Really look
    For fear you would see it in my eyes
    That I was looking
    Really looking.
    I like knowing where things are
    Ordering my life among the chaos
    Not knowing where you are
    Knowing you could be anywhere
    Even here
    Leaves me panting
    And struggling for a handhold
    Chaos ill-becomes me.
    I get lost
    And I don’t want to drown.
    I make the office into tight corners
    Right corners
    Ninety degree angles
    Paper clipped and severe.
    I can have order here
    If nowhere else.
    Look at the straight edges!
    Not crooked like me
    Straight as an arrow
    Where I am an unsteady u-turn.
    Whirling with you in my hands
    And my tongue
    Swollen in my mouth
    A bar through it
    Testament to my youth.
    Words crawl up my spine
    Did you know that?
    I am the yielded thing
    I want to yell it
    But I am Not Weak.
    And neither are you
    I wanted to say that
    Neither are you.
    I don’t know why I thought you needed it
    Those words
    Maybe you didn’t
    Maybe I’m just arrogant
    Or eaten alive by my mothering instinct
    A silly thing
    Since I am technically
    Far closer
    To childhood.
    But I felt it.
    I’m sure I did.
    I wish I’d said it.
    Yes, you are weird.
    One of the strangest of the strange
    But you are strong.
    I know it.

    Maybe you did know it
    Or just unbeknownst to me
    And judged me too weak
    Too mad
    Too starry-eyed
    Or grey-drowned
    To deserve you.
    A child
    An insane child
    With flat feet
    And coin-flat
    Penny-dulled eyes
    Drooling at your heels
    Maybe I’ll meet you again
    Near the forty mark
    When you are jumping your thirty times two
    Plus one
    And I’ll have grown in
    To these visionary eyes
    And this loose puppy skin
    And maybe you will see
    What I have always known
    People are more than they seem
    And I have the heart of a lion
    Even if I don’t have
    A lion’s heart.
    You made me doubt my strengths
    But Look!
    I found a new one
    I have A Voice!
    I might yet be
    A Leader Among Men
    Though I went down
    With this ship
    I will resurrect
    Like Jack Sparrow
    In time for the next sequel
    And go looking for my Pearl
    With her black sails
    And her troubled past.
    And there I go
    Referencing a Disney Movie
    And a sequel no less
    I feel you would not approve.
    Ah well,
    I am what I am.
    This time
    I am dismantling the lies
    And will try to build no new ones.
    I like bad movies and I cannot lie
    You other brothers can’t deny…
    But really
    My highbrow tastes
    For art house flicks
    And weird cult classics
    And random
    Are sprinkled liberally
    With Chick Flicks
    Kids movies
    Mediocre Comedy of Cheap Laughs
    And sometimes
    . . . Fart jokes
    And Billion-dollar special effects.
    Even a Film Snob
    Likes a good cry
    Every once and awhile.
    And by a good cry
    I do not mean
    Cambodian Genocide
    And a Nobel Prize winning documentary
    About child labor
    I mean
    Not killing fields but
    Sally Field infested
    Soap Opera-esque
    Dyed in the wool
    And every once and awhile
    I like a happy ending
    Happily ever after
    A sappy one
    With a long walk into a sunset.
    I know
    But I wanted to do that with you
    Saunter off into the sun
    Like a pair of gunslingers
    In a Spaghetti Western
    A colt 45 at our hips
    And nowhere to go but on.
    I’ve always wanted the things
    I couldn’t have.
    Like wings
    I would look so ungainly flying
    As ungainly and awkward as I must have looked
    Loving you.
    I have two left feet
    And no wings.
    I feel you most in the moments
    When I try to forget you.
    That thought rises
    Out of the blue.
    Not a new one
    But unexpected
    I always come across you
    When I least expect it.
    I judged you
    A slightly perverse person.
    Even when you have no control over it
    I think it would please you
    That you surprise me
    And leave me gasping like a fish
    Foundering like a flounder
    with blowfish lungs
    My eyes fluttering
    Blinking back dreams
    Like gills
    All windmilling fins
    And puffer lips.
    I feel so fat and hideous
    I don’t want this body anymore
    It feels so unwieldy
    I will it dead.
    No wonder you didn’t want it,
    I think.
    A tired, lump of a body at this age
    Steered wobbling by an unreliable mind
    Is no investment for the future.
    I used to think I was beautiful
    In rare moments
    But no more.
    I knew how to walk
    As if I was remembering sex
    And the entire world
    Voyeurs all
    Were watching.
    I wasn’t stunning
    But I knew how to smile.
    I don’t know how I did it anymore
    My smiles feel so stale
    Day old bread and soggy Cheetos.
    My words drag out of my throat
    Like a clog
    Pulled out of a storm drain,
    Rasping in ill-use.
    I taste grit in my mouth
    Oft rehashed memories
    Grind like sand paper
    Between my teeth.
    It tastes like earth and dust.
    I crave it
    To swallow it in great mouthfuls
    Grave dirt and sand stone.
    I rub a soap stone statue
    With turquoise eyes
    And pray for strength.
    I finger the heart on my hip bone
    The skin there soft as suede
    Never tanned
    I trace the word beneath my left breast
    Laugh a little
    Think about making my body a map.
    I can show you later
    All the places I’ve been
    All the goals I’ve set
    All the people I’ve met
    All the people I’ve been.
    You’ll see it, them, me
    Traced in ink
    And scarring on my body
    I’ll say,
    You were this one
    Up my arm and across my wrist
    Both wrists
    Pale and mined with blue-green veins.
    My pulse beating thunderous
    On the inside corner.
    A flutter in the skin.
    And this one,
    I’ll trace your fingers up my spine
    A curving line from hip to shoulder blade,
    This one is you
    From when I tried to say goodbye
    And pick my life back up.
    I might even touch your hand to the heart
    Perilously close
    I will thrill with it
    Danger Will Robinson.
    And tell you about regret
    And how close I came
    To bringing my own hand to it
    And breaking it
    Rending it in two.
    I wonder what you will say.
    I hope you don’t say
    I’m sorry
    They’re beautiful.
    And they are
    Just like you
    Just like me.
    I wonder if you know what you’ve done to me.
    I held your heart in my hand once
    Watched it tremble
    Care-worn and a little ragged at the edges—
    Pages worn thin and dog-eared
    Like a favorite book
    —so beautiful.
    Last edited by a moderator: Aug 4, 2006
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