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SIPHONOPHORE
by Steven Kenworthyknocking over days are trees maybe pines
remember when pins felt like needles
i watched a siphonopohore wash ashore
imagining how painfully gorgeous it was like waiting.
i too would sting, swim & kill for
bumping teeth just once a day back to breathing against
your neck of the woods your neck
the woods neck of the break is over i can taste
the clocks are dying and getting wound up
hands everywhere the months are gone the years
are here
the beginning of the end of the beginning is the
sky is not its not falling its summer, we are
sweating hot back into the air is
vapor skin gathering
con
den
sa
tion.
through frosty glasses
my crystal vision
would take speech
& speak
say something disney movie
like
the beauty of the beast is the hello of the;
goodbye to astronauts.
ill gladly give the space back to the spacesuits who wear them
& thank you nasa for the rockets and shuttles you came up with
but she feels like home like
the song
the scattered tunes like shifting syllables
written into the words like airwaves
the soundwaves i want to ride into bed with you
sleep tight
moon,
princess.
bad dream wishbox, it is time
to go home.
i am home
the wait/
the waist/
the water/
is over
the line
dams are waterbed wishes breaking down splashing
levies built by bests to be crushed by untouchable
umbrellas. geometric
shapes of safety
circles of arms are buckets to catch
well take floods, they can
keep
the
light rain.
later on
dressed as
ghosts, we can
tackle &
use the
puddles for
transparencies
for now the swamp i live in is,
not so hard to swallow now so many miles are big but
these good years are made for making slick things stick
so the seconds are made for making us tick but what
we thought the challenge would change what it is
telephones kept the bells ringing all night the lips singing
all this time i wish you were here i cant wait i love you i saved you
a spot in my bed.
01/10/2007 Author's Note: nightmares at night take daydream shapes.
Posted on 01/10/2007
Copyright © 2024 Steven Kenworthy
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 01/12/07 at 11:25 AM I sense there is much gestating in this poem and much that is post natal and twixt the two I think you have fashioned a sense of perpetuity. |
| Posted by Leslie Ann Eisenberg on 01/13/07 at 01:40 AM love the man-of-war metaphor. drifting, yes, lost at sea, in limbo waiting for the world to begin. there is much beauty in the torture of waiting. there is certainty among the mulitple trains of thought, leading to the inevitable conclusion, the warmth of companionship at the end of the journey. PK |
| Posted by Kathleen Wilson on 01/13/07 at 05:55 AM Fantastic fluid imagery... the centerpiece "siphonophore" is haunting, and the moment of its presentation in the poem, as well as what I feel in your memory as a seed for the surge of such heightened verse "how painfully gorgeous it was like waiting" is as well--"painfully gorgeous". The flashing from one image to the next like stones in undercurents, like falling stars and all in the "waiting" and for "the spot in my bed".
"the song/
the scattered tunes like shifting syllables/
written into the words like airwaves"
a perfect description of your writing, and always alive and full of expression. |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 01/13/07 at 03:52 PM This feels like break dancing on a strong tide and I ride it with pleasure - so many phrases here that pull me under. Well done. |
| Posted by Melanie J Yarbrough on 02/03/07 at 03:33 PM yeah, "fluid" is a good word for this- reminds me of freewriting, just like thinking on a page. last line's killer |
| Posted by A. Paige White on 04/07/08 at 04:13 AM Your pen is needlepoint sharp and pounces like thunder through the mindscape design "remember when pins felt like needles" I do now. "for now the swamp i live in is, not so hard to swallow" is a perfect description of my day today. perfect. "making slick things stick
so the seconds are made for making us tick" another masterpiece. |
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