by Steven Kenworthy
we were always and we were never.
you were more than I imagined and nothing at all
to write home about me now that i am real.
to the touch
my weightless arms & lightning message in a champagne bottle drunk
the universe she
takes her sweet time.
your cotton spun piano hands teeth and skeleton keys unlock me back to life
is not fair i’ve missed you i’ve overslept
i woke up at the shore of your hips and headboard
cuban missile orange blossom crisis
floating next to your Havana sky drifting across my chest.
the clouds as wet as the ocean on your neck.
quiet freckles whisper porcelain over your shoulders. they shhh so soft
the constellation of goosebumps from here to there. slowly
where am i have you gone wrong right
the ship the sinking planets. i am beside myself next to you
we are dancing bronze in the rain’s collapse
your bony limbs feel good against mine.
i am drowning in a sea of your facial expressions
i walk like a spider behind your knees.
hidden beneath your worst fear is what i have always known silently
the curtain breathes sheet music across our backs. she wooshes so soft and divides our muscles in two
half of me is you making fourths for the first time
i am not scared of life and death to hope to see you again
this is not the end the beginning
and the end of this pattern of slipping is spinning real.
to the touch
i am woozy
for thousands of years or more
than forever but less than tonight
we were always and we were never the moon
the sun glitters mint through your collar bones the dying stars
in my mind everything catches fire
over your bow through your port there is warmth in my blood
stream a trace of film and forget
that i’m right that
you left but you stayed, won’t you be here
when i wake
Author's Note: a dying star becomes woozy
Posted on 09/13/2018
Copyright © 2019 Steven Kenworthy
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 09/14/18 at 12:13 AM|
Refreshingly different, excellent poetics. Thanks for posting Steven.
|Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 09/16/18 at 04:07 PM|
Mr. Kenworthy - Good to read you again and know that you retain that unique flowing stream of consciousness, provocative, intelligent, compelling. Loved this especially - "your cotton spun piano hands teeth and skeleton keys"
|Posted by Kris Mara on 09/18/18 at 11:45 PM|
the images and sounds you weave together are mesmerizing...I love the sounds and line breaks down the page -- and through it all you never lose your honesty or your voice -- it's this personal conversation that the reader is drawn into...written with an elegant honesty...if that makes sense...I don't have the words to describe the impact of your words :) But glad to have had the chance to read you...
|Posted by Glenn Currier on 09/20/18 at 02:54 PM|
The flow of images, feelings, and experiences is really like floating in a stream, in a poetic spirit's earthjourney. Some of your lines and phrases are flashes of brilliance, diamonds falling from the sky into my eyes as I read. Thanks for this creative piece Steven. Your style challenges me to break the bonds of my regular pattern of writing.