all poems and photographs
© by Maya Stein

all poems and photographs
© by Maya Stein
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Please include a link (www.papayamaya.blogspot.com) when reproducing any of the material in this blog. Thank you!

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Saturday, February 23, 2008

not the poetry I wanted


















Saturday, the hint of bad weather, waking warm
in a bed with your legs still imprinted,
a slight groove in your pillow. You woke
hours ago, from a nightmare, while I dreamed
of wedding outfits, of arriving late and underdressed.
By then you were purging a bloody scene
into your notebook, shocked at the horror you'd conjured,
and maybe that's why this morning, despite the easy lyricism
of a weekend, despite the long stretch of a Saturday,
I'm finding love off-kilter, tender to the touch, a bruise on my skin
whose origins I can't identity. This is not the poetry I wanted,
even rising out of a less-then-perfect sleep, but here were are,
love and I, facing each other distractedly and with a little suspicion,
and all the while the clouds overhead are thickening, weighted down
with the pummel of a storm last night's news forecasted, and I know
it's coming but who knows when, and I wonder if you will stop having
such terrible dreams, and if I will be able to arrive fully dressed
to the day of reckoning, if we will fall into each other like the last lines
of a poem, a pair of branches swaying, persistently, in the heaviest rain.

4 comments:

Teeny Poet said...

That was a beautiful paragragh to sum up your day. It was one of those things you read and you actually enjoy reading it. Oh, and by the way, I believe you made a few spelling mistakes in your paragraph that may throw off readers. Peace

Wenda said...

Another powerful poem, from my perspective. Thanks!

GailNHB said...

" love off-kilter, tender to the touch" - so well said. As always, you are able to take a few words and speak volumes. Love does feel this way sometimes, doesn't it? Tender. Raw. Like a bruise. Oh that we could simply wake up from the momentary nightmare and be done with it... but it's not always that easy.

GailNHB said...

"This is not the poetry I wanted." But still you wrote it, you shared it, you allowed it to come to life, off-kilter, tender to the touch and bruised though it may be. You too. Nope, it's not always the poetry or the love or the life we wanted, but it's what we have. How will we live with it and learn to accept it as it is? That's what I ask myself quite often.

Also, thanks for the beautiful 10-line Tuesday writings. I am deeply moved each time. Every time. Your words are powerful and deeply engaging.