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to know one's alive
by Jared Fladelandslivers force my frantic realization that I am human.
a cold rag full of soapy water slapped on the back of my neck
on the type of summer day where dogs turn into puddles
causes me to remember that I can feel.
a steamy shower after a few hours in a milk cooler
melts me into the thought that there are some experiences
greater than sex.
I could only represent this feeling by the meeting of ninety degree water
on forty degree skin.
the sparks that occur are revolutionary.
it takes being on stage, psychologically naked with someone
who can see past every defense mechanism I can muster
to know that I can connect to another human being.
The majority of my life is spent in self-imposed cocoons
in the hope that I can metamorphosize into butterflies
moments that occur outside of myself, to my exterior,
are what make me alive.
all this junk on the inside, the mazes of arteries and
blood vessels
and brain matter
and bone structure.
that's all philosophical science.
I need something more tangible. 07/08/2006 Posted on 07/08/2006
Copyright © 2024 Jared Fladeland
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Amanda L Marron on 07/24/06 at 07:48 PM i love the visions you weave in this poem.
"it takes being on stage, psychologically naked with someone
who can see past every defense mechanism I can muster
to know that I can connect to another human being."
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| Posted by Elizabeth Seago on 12/20/06 at 11:03 PM Mmm. I enjoyed this one very much. I, too, am coming to these same realizations. (: Such an abrasive truth written so smoothly and eloquently. "The majority of my life is spent in self-imposed cocoons" Adding this to the favorites. |
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