weathering
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weathering
"A day without rain is like a day without sunshine." -- A. R. Ammons : I'm wondering if there is life after sex, if there is any getting away from who we were under each other just moments ago before you went to work & I was left to stumble into my underwear, jeans, your shirt, thinking, how did I live through that & where should I be now, without you? you, my agrologist, who unearths the earth. I'm quite sure that you have inherited a poet's genitals. : Still: you are constant as the day weathering through & regardlessly, I need you. : it is that time of the month, or it should be. I'm late & still, the hormones come kicking in hiking boots. are we ready for this? I make coffee I didn't help pick or grind & move outside. storm clouds & black crows burden the March sky. a cat whose paws have never touched grass is with me, but only on the stoop; no taste of green for him. "isn't it just fucking charming here?" I say, to no one in particular. "what kind of animal keeps knocking over the garbage cans?" though really, I'm wondering what life is after babies; if there will be any getting back to who we were under each other just an hour ago. the air has become palpable. Mia, the german shepherd, barks "hello" & Pablo flattens an ear, twitches his tail; gives up his glimpse of wild & pads indoors. : regardlessly, I need you. : it's raining now; the earth grows invisible. you're out in it: a man whose presence encloses everything like weather. chin up & mouth opening to a kiss as soil slicks to mud; each raindrop clear as tiny thoughts of love; this is me calling you home. |
Submitted on 2011-03-21 16:55:01 Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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| I'm gonna fling some random and silly nits at you before I get into a blither about how much I love love love this poem. Hope that's ok :) * I'm wondering if there is life after sex, if there is any getting away from who we were under each other just moments ago before you went to work[] & I was left to stumble into my underwear, jeans, your shirt, thinking, how did I live through that & where should I be now, without you? you, my agrologist, who unearths the earth[.] I'm quite sure that you have inherited a poet's genitals. -- ok, that is silly grammar blither, it is, and I'm sorry for being such an idiot (sort of) -- but but but I want it to be a run-on sentence, before you went to work...& I was left. I think the stanza gap makes enough of a separation there, tells enough about the leaving, you know? And a full stop slows me down too much -- I just think grammatically, it's awkward there. Or something. Meh at me. Yup. And then a little opposite -- I want that I'm quite sure to be it's own sentence, and not because I have a thing for starting sentences half-way through lines (though maybe a little) but just because, you know? It feels right, like pancakes with lemon and sugar. Yeah man? * you are constant as the day weathering through & [regardless], I need you. -- Ok, I was thinking that that still is good, it is, but without it these italicised parts feel more like spirits talking, twin souls -- and with it the still makes me not lose myself in those words. Does that make sense? I'm bad at explaining. Maybe if you wanted it separated more you could use brackets, but these ones: [la la la] ? * [regardless], I need you. Perhaps I have a problem with the word regardlessly and have only just now discovered it and ought to take it to therapy? Seriously, I'm being a pain. Though I do think that that regardless feels more plaintive, or pleading, almost (with both of those words being slightly too strong for what I mean) so, so, yeah man? * it's raining now; the earth [grows] invisible. you're out in it: a man whose presence encloses everything like weather. chin up & mouth opening to a kiss as soil slicks to mud; each raindrop clear as tiny thoughts of love; this is me calling you home. -- again, I'm a wanker, I know. Something about those two ings so close together while not indicating immediacy all that much as you switch back to no ings, you know? (You can call me a hooker if you like) * Do you even still want me to blither about why I love it? Ha, you can't stop me anyways! Your opening is gorgeous -- it's so fukcing human (I was just telling Gilly how I love that so) and candid and, most importantly, true. Especially when there's not time for a cuddle and a smoke/coffee/shower after -- you have to suddenly become you again, and not sex-you, you know? So, complex thoughts and ideas stated simply and I'm jealous that those are not my lines (I wouldn't have come up with 'em in a thousand years). The specificity of agrogologist, and the unearths/earth -- lovely lovely lovely. I like a little word play, a little mind play, and that ticks both of those boxes. It's clever, and also beautiful. The part about the poet's genitals, too. Makes me think words like creation. And that is an apt word. The italicised parts, all of 'em -- they are so direct while remaining poetic, and plaintive, yup, a please come back to me. Lovely. The part where you describe how hormonal you are -- how you open with that kicking in hiking boots, which is great, and then it's you swearing about garbage cans with maybe an edge of fear/nervousness -- that are we ready for this? you know? Perfectimundo. And your end, the close -- in a technical way, how you blend the italicised parts with the regular parts, how the focus is Bo -- something about being psychic, almost, or this idea that love is a kind of magic and he knws you need him and he will come. And the phrasing throughout -- I'm not gonna pull out any more favourite lines as it'd be most of it, and that's ridiculous, but you get my drift, yeah? In a word: stunning. | Posted on 2011-04-04 00:00:00 | by AlyRose | [ Reply to This ] | you know i had to favourite this. sequences... | one day i read this and the next day i read that you're pregnant. both things were special & this is excellent because. | Posted on 2011-03-22 00:00:00 | by theludus | [ Reply to This ] | by the way..."the homrones come kicking in hiking boots" | that is a great line...you take the most normal, everyday life occurences and make them so poetic... | Posted on 2011-03-21 00:00:00 | by jacoberin | [ Reply to This ] | wow. it rains tears when you are gone, it rains passion when you are here... | but after our storm...do we even remember who was on top or under... when pregnancy is the result of the storm and life changes so much-- mostly for the good...children are great...but sometimes the regret is that we can't go back to "that hour ago" "a Poet's genitals"---mmmm that could be good or bad....big words but small something else... i like that reference and then how the lover is as "constant as the day weathering through" and that could be so inconstant...like the weather in trinidad which changes every 20 minutes...like often the poet's mood-- but "regardlessly" you are mine, my rain, my storm, my weather...and without you i am lost...and i am calling for you.. i really like that line "& mouth opening to a kiss as soil slicks to mud" slide back to me my love, i am waiting on the stoop for you to come home....as constantly i wait as constantly the cat will not step onto the grass... even in the most domestic of relationships, where both partners go through the motions of a day....there is electricity as in electric storms...and they happen...and then we try to remember them enough till the next time. | Posted on 2011-03-21 00:00:00 | by jacoberin | [ Reply to This ] | |
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