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One Night

by Leslie Ann Eisenberg

Cross weeping rivers I heard you smile today,
Kind words offered to companion and stranger, you, cleaning spills,
Holding up all the world that is not you and somehow more worthy

But when night falls fetal you caved in dance across the meager moments:

Once, you remember, he brushed a glance along your thigh
Uncommitted touch dances your bones
By your almost side fond wish his almostskin pumps your heart true

Virtually kissed by his flowery lines, rainbowed letters
Chant by heart penned lips soft so these words
Winged eyelashes whispered wail down leaves
Fall without goodbye too fast to fall asleep or up

Wishlove in-utero insomnia toss turns legs waiting suppose they will run right ways
But tonight, only inside almost there and everywhere but here
Static security lines where Gods are arrested for carrying water
A three-piece suit waits on a hangar while you catch the red eye
and watch the lights go by blue, I see you there
In egg-shaped window reading poems of heartbreak by pinlight
Lady in the lake forsaken, believing life has yet to start,

“Suppose” and “if” a stagnant pool to drown spinning wheels
Deciphering a code not to be
Cracked in between lines you deduce silence to be “no,” and you are mistaken


This silence is breath held anaerobic futility freight train
Ears cannot hear your cry he cries a tune you cannot hear above your own keening
While you sail through gray clouds of every could have been
Out the egg window hope lost no homelights visible
From this altitude you steel yourself
But do not see

This is only one night
And you will get to the other side of light
One night is a mere moment do not sift sands through
The hourglass lest they haunt your bed to burn midnight

You are not a still pond

You are not a cliché

You are fluid bending rocks that line the shore
Back down to waves sanding away days by day
Be down here ocean girl deep wide deep

You’ve glued your blood thicker than blackstrap molasses in the fridge
Light a campfire at water’s edge break the chill that’s got hold
And made you a timid prisoner break, break free make smoke, girl
Blow the flames with mighty bellows you’ve hidden from view
Your pipes burst with steam Scream YOUR name be heard
Sling paint in bold colors seize moments and still let them go
You will be free yes by yes free chant graceful moon has not forsaken you
She burns from set-sun to bless you and keep you
Warm and Peace won’t wake you until dawn blooms once more

For no living
is
With breath held in
You Be
Out blazing your own path to glory
With a smile that shows true eyes,
This is only one night, and you are not alone, I hear your call

09/06/2006

Author's Note: remember? love ya, girl!

Posted on 09/07/2006
Copyright © 2024 Leslie Ann Eisenberg

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Gregory O'Neill on 09/07/06 at 05:16 AM

Hi PK. Well, I like it. I like the freshness of the words, and the "stream" from which the voice becomes an environment. It's quite democratic. Nice writing, indeed.

Posted by Maria Terezia Ferencz on 09/07/06 at 08:29 AM

do not sift the sands through The hourglass lest they haunt your bed to burn midnight WOW I loved this, the lonliness and the urging not to give up, I fell into the world of this for some time before I crawled back out, refreshed...lovely.

Posted by Steven Kenworthy on 09/07/06 at 11:23 AM

i'm flattered!...and i will have to come back to this. SO much to digest...so good! might take a day or 5 for a legitimate comment.

Posted by Michelle Angelini on 09/09/06 at 07:19 PM

OMIGOSH! This poem is image and emotion central. Yes, so much to digest in here that one reading just isn't enough. You've broken some rules and made up some of your own. Now I'll have to go read Steven's poem...
~Chelle~

Posted by Curt Allday on 09/09/06 at 07:44 PM

wow this is by far my most favorite work of yours, I love the use of jagged phrases, just pulsating in each line, it is akin to some elaborate mouse trap with a thousand different parts to make it spring, you spring it so effortlessly, and in the mean time, the passion, the feelings of desire, possibly makes the reader blush, you are disclosing so intimate of experiences. Loved it from beginning to end. Inspirational. I read the longing in one who dedicates their time to work, to the busy lifestyle, but wishes for that night to return again.

Posted by Karl Waldbauer on 09/13/06 at 06:30 AM

This assaults, soothes, while conjuring such vivid imagery. Quite a bit of writing here, Leslie.

Posted by Joe Cramer on 11/28/06 at 07:40 PM

PK, As always.... a wonderful piece.... excellent!!! Joe

Posted by Elizabeth Jill on 02/18/09 at 04:01 PM

Wow! I completely melt into this poem and come flying out the other side of reading it - ready to burn[!] Your mind is incredible, to write this.

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