fuck. i owe 7 more poems to catch up.

[concretekiss]

Past Lives

The thunder at 3am woke me & up from
a half-awake haze I heard the littlest one's voice
There is big growling outside. Yes
I told her, took her hand to my belly.
Of the things one never has to teach a kid
one is that the Floor Is Molten Lava,
as universal as eating crayons;
to be caught perched atop mama's
tiger-oak dresser or hurriedly
rehanging the drapes you tore down falling
an attempt to flatten yourself to the window
inching toward a strategically placed
footstool. I found mine adding the spin
of Hot Potato, but balanced on islands
pillows over liquid rock. One bad catch &
it's all over. No one taught me.
I never had to explain how to imagine myself out
of a rained-in apartment & into an adventure
Before I retired that night, I crouched
outside the door to my son's bedroom
to hear him sing along with the radio. His voice
was extravagant, florid. He was no longer
in his bed, waiting to fall asleep. He
was shaking a stadium. The crowd was roaring.

Comments

[mojodragonfly.livejournal.com]

melt and shape will equal gold. So much to like. Gets confused a bit, and could be more slick. Structure and growing it a bit will make it awesome.

[flightviolation.livejournal.com]

yeah, i purged it on my lunch break. it's got a ways to go. thank you. :)

[liquid-siftings.livejournal.com]

Fabulous close! And a nice combination of specificity and universal resonance.

[flightviolation.livejournal.com]

thank you!

[cowboyjesus.livejournal.com]

Made me wish it rained up here more often. I would try and depict the rain some more. A child's sense of wonder at some point questions why thunderstorms happen during the night.Good opportunity to delve into sleep and dreams too.

When there's a thunderstorm at night up here it is terrifying. The thunder crackles with a lot more treble notes and the lightening is only briefly in front of it. The sound travels more quickly somehow, giving the impression of giants playing a basketball game back and forth down court. The wind rushes the Ponderosa trees in fits and starts sounding like a waterfall turning rapidly on and off. Then there is the rain itself sounding like someone dumping a load of gravel on the roof.

Nature's baby waking us up in the middle of the night, sometimes a nuisance, sometimes a point of reverence.

Pangea_Tongue Is Back

[cowboyjesus.livejournal.com]

"Tongue-in-Cheek"

Put on John Sebastion's "Welcome Back!" (Welcome Back Kotter" and go say "hi".

remember how

[slomosexual.livejournal.com]

in an earlier comment, I mentioned how much I was getting a "vibe" of searching? well, while this one does have the word found in it, there seems to be an element of arrival here, perhaps in that last scene; a sense that you have discovered something, something that you still have to process & integrate

this is a fascinating prompt for its self-analytical propensity