Once
the storm
predicted and prepared for
still
blew away the thatch of your house
sent water pouring like words with lament
and whilst
i was sickening
i thought I heard you row
across the expanse of us
holding your roof as umbrella
your feet bare and needy
opened my cabinet of questions
gave you a draft of why?
to which you descended beneath brackish waters
places submerged in lost question
claiming to surface
a moment where you spun in orange pekoe light
sitting stroking Gato before he
tested his claws on a tree the buyers tore down years hence
i climbed that tree in my high heels
you took a photo aping for the camera
and one fixing your sink in mini skirt
that’s my girl you said
we bathed because then you had a bath and I had heated arms to wrap you whole
the ocean of the past drawing in and receding
with it, debris of unsaid and unchained
time behind and unrecoverable
…
Once
i told you I was sick and couldn’t swim
you held me above waves with your will
till you decided I weighed too heavy
on the stitch of your skin to keep
we both
and neither of us
strangers and familiar
deciding and without decision
lost that year to the storm
as it set its pulse on our sundial and drank all hope in its spiraling eye
(there are many forms of love, you chose certainty over depth)
and once
i took a raft made of need and dragged the silty water
searching for what was lost
of us
who we were and were not
for you told fate you never knew me after all
an error of thinking … no more
then the storm left and all we knew was flat and broken
even trees we climbed were crushed like sad-faced dolls
as if an avalanche had glossed over the details
leaving behind a shiny surface and no more beneath
but dull reflection
The wonder of this poem,
a certainty . . .
with depth to plunder.
I see, I think, why that one line is crossed out, but still, that choosing certainty over depth does leave a debris field littered with what was not said, and all else. Stunning!
Reblogged this on cabbagesandkings524 and commented:
TheFeatheredSleep – Debris in the wake of storm
Thanks!! Yes it was a deliberate. I appreciate YOU.
🙂
congratulations! https://thethoughtlessmusings.wordpress.com/2018/08/31/the-blogger-recognition-award/
Sadly, beautifully, written, Candy
“That’s my girl”
A cure-all for whatever might ail you!
This left me feeling like I had been tossed around in an emotional tempest and then – tossed aside like a piece of flotsam ….
I thought you’d take me to the mountain`top; instead you took me to the sea . . .
Not a very good reaction but understandable
I disagree – it means your writing hit the spot remarkably well. The sign of an accomplished poetess 🙂
I love seeing relationships through your eyes, Beautiful Poet. Brava. ❤
Reblogged this on The Lithium Chronicles and commented:
She’s incredible
Why say a storm is perfect if it leaves you tossed ashore… maybe the swirl is worth it, but in the end there is always one who is the better swimmer.
Wow! I absolutely love this ❤
Reblogged this on A Lion Sleeps in the Heart of the Brave and commented:
Amazing piece by Candice ❤
I love this on so many levels! 💜
Your power to evoke the unsaid pain with your words of such a relationship blows my mind. I relate to this one so much especially the lines “lost that year to the storm…. and drank all hope in its spiralling eye”… magnificent.
Thank you dear one thank you so much as I love your poetry when you write it (and your prose) that means such a lot from you
Every word is deeply meant. Much love beautiful friend. ❤
You brighten my soul. I find your posts deeply inspirational – I love your poetry but I really like your musings (good word) on things, because you think a lot like I do in terms of how people act, what the consequences of that are, etc, and you are an empath. I’m not an empath but i appreciate empaths very much and I appreciate your good heart in this strange world
That means a lot to me as I am a big admirer of your poetry and ability to express things far more subtly that I can. It is a very strange world. I was just thinking that today as I had to be out early to meet the charity truck that was collecting my Mum’s possessions. I see a great split in us at times between spirit and matter. I find it hard to articulate but I know you get it and see it too. I value so much our connection and knowing you at least a little through the outpourings of your mind heart and soul on here. Love to you Candice. ❤
I do know what you mean. Spirit and matter – the split. I like how you described that. It is very hard to describe isn’t it? You’re not on Facebook are you? (Fakebook) I am but only to push the books otherwise I wouldn’t be but if you were maybe we could talk via their chat thingie xo
Yes i am but i don’t link to my blog there as i like to keep some of it private (not thats really possible). Ill send you a friend request..would that be okay?..im Deborah Allin on FB
I ll go check it out . I don’t go on there much. If not a i’ll put a request onto your page. I was actually just thinking about it. oxo
🙂
I hope I found you or I tried to friend some random stranger! (fingers crossed!) If it wasn’t you then I’m just plain ole candice daquin on FB xoxo
Great minds 💓