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"I'm sorry that number cannot be dialed from this connection"

Submitted by Esker on Sun, 2012-07-29 22:53

Coma static call
from the broken phone down the hall

I can hear you
your whimper

the same moon shinning bright
on us
your thick legs of winter beneath
your grandmothers quilt

fog mist hand stirring our hearts
your breasts against my chest
black birds echo
the etch of pines at the great bank
of the valley decline
makes me shiver

connect
the static hiss
of our careful silences

the longing measured
between us

you always cry
sobbing
broken hearted

Editing stage: 
Editing - rough draft

Comments

Seren

Tue, 2012-07-31 01:13

Seren's picture

I've read this four times you never cease to enthrall me in the words

Awesome to read you again Steven

Hugs Jc

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

Ian.T

Tue, 2012-07-31 18:12

Ian.T's picture
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This seems to send to me a sorrow of a lost age where the comfort of being has been lost, and a memory of a silence drumming in the ears of probably someone that is young. Holding a phone that has told a story we did't want to hear as it hisses its song..
Take care out there, Yours Ian.T

.
There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

Esker

Wed, 2012-08-01 02:12

Esker's picture

if I stop and let the crowd of time rush past me
then look about I will see new faces
and I shall be sad for what I knew
But I being I will know that I am not lost
nor is that time

Comfot and Being comfort in being ignorant
and then the great wisdom of knowledge
of a greater awareness We can never receed
for simplicity unless an illness takes this
and this is natural as the seasons

I will always be in my being

the Silence mentioned here
is when there is nothing to say
and yet no need to hang up

its about Being as you mentioned
being right there
waiting not expecting

a bath gets cold
a day gets old

no drumming
its not an urgent
incessant tone
in this poem

its like this

when we called
the connection
was fast
the intimacies like
tumblers in a lock
fell smooth

the tears fell
natural and open
some people have
that hurt and some
have that gift to
make the rainfall
that release

in a quiet manner
a focused waiting
in long slow metered
words

it was magic
still is
and far off
but never

is it lost

author comment

Ian.T

Wed, 2012-08-01 02:49

Ian.T's picture
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These things are never lost
though sometimes
they are modified in the memory
to let you grow.
As we both have a few years
there are times when we needed
and there was a space,
later as memories are sorted
That space is filled
even with white noise.
It is impossible.
to sit in the mind of another
Maybe it would drive us mad..
Thanks for your great reply to my comments as usual, you take care out there and if you can find a silence and enjoy, Yours Ian.T

.
There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

BlueDemon77

Mon, 2012-08-06 19:57

BlueDemon77's picture

I found this kind of cryptic, but the emotion rings with perfect pitch. Some of the best writing, especially in poetry, simply points at the meaning, leaving the rest in the hands and mind of the reader. I don't think we need to
know specifics to benefit from the excellent verbiage and powerful emotion that spring from this poem. Well done.

Ron

Blue Demon77

"What I want is to be what I was before the knife,
before the brooch pin, before the salve, fixed me in this parenthesis:
Horses fluent in the wind. A place, a time gone out of mind."

The Eye Mote-Sylvia Plath

Esker

Mon, 2012-08-06 20:21

Esker's picture

I never knew poets or people until I read their biographies or autobiographies
and accounts gleaned from their existance
Then I read their poems which were like snapshots of their mind
Not all become poets or remain such
I have had people tell me they need only the poem to fathom out
the mystery and revealing of it

sometimes its just the framework to show where
this all evolves from

as I keep saying this is a Gift
and I keep sharing it here
appreciative of the comments and work
of correction and changes that my
fellow poets suggest

Thank You

author comment

judyanne

Tue, 2012-08-07 14:33

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esker I really like this
I have read it over and over - and i get something more from it with each read
and i really love the hidden rhyme

typo ‘the same moon shinning bright’ – ‘shining’
unless of course you play with ‘shinning’ – as in ‘shinning up the drainpipe’….

love judy
xxx

'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)

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