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11. Jasper, Kirkwood Drive
by Aaron BlairFinally, I found I had no words
for this life, nothing but the echo
of silence, of quiet discontent.
The blood didn't scream when it flowed,
as resigned to its existence
as all the other parts of me,
even my traitor's heart and poet's tongue.
The days softly dissolved into one another,
like the pills that lulled me to sleep,
and I imagined that one day I might not wake up,
but only as often as I imagined
that maybe, some day, I would. 12/29/2011 Author's Note: So, I was inspired by a friend of mine, who's been posting these poems lately with state abbreviations as the titles, and I thought, I could write poems about the different places where I've lived. The thing is, of course, that if you follow my poetry, or you know me, some of this stuff is going to be familiar to you, and I'm not trying to repeat myself, just trying to get a solid picture of what each place means to me in my mind. I've lived here on Kirkwood Drive for five years. A lot of things have happened, but a lot of things haven't happened at all.
Posted on 12/29/2011
Copyright © 2024 Aaron Blair
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Kristine Briese on 12/29/11 at 10:43 PM This has an ethereal beauty to it, as most of your work does. The ending is stunning. |
| Posted by Joe Cramer on 12/30/11 at 06:56 PM ... excellent..... |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 12/30/11 at 08:29 PM It can actually be quite nice when someone runs out of things to say. There's a lot of room for accomplishment within that. Great read. |
| Posted by Mo Couts on 12/31/11 at 12:47 AM Aaron, your words are absolutely breathtaking. Wow. |
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