How much information is too much?
If I told you the way I clip my nails
or
the consistency of the wax in my ear
The state of the nation
from the angle of my erection in the morning
The weather by my popping bones as I stretch
The size of my shoe
just one, you cannot know about both
for each foot is different on each of us
and both have a tale to tell
My favourite colour of underwear
for me
no one else
The times I have wept in total despair
snot and tears running together
a river of hopelessness meeting
on the valley of my mouth
The same number of times I have laughed so
hard my ribs have crushed in and taken the
breath from my lungs
My memory of standing on the edge of a cliff
the small stones shifting beneath my weight
the sun burning into my eyes
and wondering....
why I don’t like pasta sometimes
why I don’t like chicken often
why I will not sing the national anthem
why my hip has a small sickle shape scar
And what will you do with all of this?
Paint a picture
write a story
fill your empty places
wish it into a physical shape
burn it to the soft bone-white arc
of a branch
emblazon my life across its gnarled surface
Or read it
absorb it
and wander on to the next one
How many lifes should we bookmark
and covertly become part of?
Are you part of mine?
Am I part of yours?
6 comments:
Fabulous, instrospective poem, Christian. I thoroughly enjoyed it and the personal comments and questions you placed in there.
Hiya Sandy, thankyou kindly, glad the ear wax etc wasnt too much *grins*
wow, ouch, you tell almost nothing about yourself here .... and yet it is searingly intimate.
I love these lines especially:
burn it to the soft bone-white arc
of a branch
emblazon my life across its gnarled surface
I know you like to be flippant about your work, but you should definitely keep this one somewhere. It's very good.
*serious expression*
Am I really that flippant about it kid?
I don't mean to be, I guess I don't take me all that seriously, and therefore, it flows into the way I speak about my writing.
I don't want to give the perception I don't care about my work, thats not true at all, I do Moon.
weeelll ... you did say to me once that you had deleted all your poems up to that point which quite horrified me!
I've kept pretty much every word I've written up till now, even the utter crap.
But yeah, I do know you care about it. Otherwise why would you still be here doing this? :-)
My last exams are in two weeks.
I went to a seminar yesterday to see about maybe training to teach secondary school next year.
I'm thinking I might do teacher training as well as English second language teacher training, and maybe throw in adult literacy as well, and do secondary relieving p[art time, and private tutoring from home. It would fit in quite well with writing I think.
What do you think?
I think it is the perfect way to implement all the things you have learned throughout your course Moon.
And, I also think you would make a fantastic teacher, you have a very even temperament which would lend itself to the patience required.
Go you, what an exciting prospect *smiles*
As for the deleting of poems, they are the past, and thus, expendable *grin*
I have trouble even reading what I wrote the day before, let alone something I vomited up two years ago kid *laughing*
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