Today's Poem (After Violeta Garcia-Medoza)

[radiantfracture]

As if haunted by the worst fear,
you open doors and doors,
sinking into the deep house, its calm
featureless hallways, seeking
the perfect empty room.

You are fleeing from the rustling
bright mothwinged creature
at your back.

Despite your skin
electric with alarm,
I regret to inform you
the wings are attached.

It is true that joy is a way of being lost
in the open. It is a monster
to the carefully cached heart.

Yet here is the sky still,
burning open all the eyes of the house:
one too many doors
and it is yours.


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I got Mendoza's poem "Harbinger" as a prompt in my inbox today (see next post!). Her poem made me think about my own dreams of exploring houses and interior spaces. These are joyful dreams, not like in this poem. But they also maybe are about turning to the interior when the exterior seems fearful.

Possibly this poem is a little too sentimental, but it is hard for me to claim joy. I could use all the help I can get.

§rf§

Comments

[cmcmck]

Your second verse gives me the thought that you and I were working off the same idea! :o)

'Bonfire eyes see nightwide
Alone under a silver mothmoon'

[radiantfracture]

Maybe we we both thinking of Hopkins?

[sovay]

Yet here is the sky still,
burning open all the eyes of the house:

I love this. That indifferent immanence isn't sentimental at all.

[sabotabby]

New goal: Embrace sentiment. Lean the fuck in.

[smokingboot]

<>Yet here is the sky still,
burning open all the eyes of the house:
one too many doors
and it is yours.

This lifts me upward, sweeps me into that sky. Thank you for posting it.