The Object of Feelings

separacion

*Image found HERE

The Object of Feelings

I have felt the hunger
of the many young root;
my embrace was
mud – stroking
with its pebble teeth,
keeping the
blindness of their dreams
warm between the clay;
feeding and uncurling
their spines
through liminal spaces
until their eyes
would be glued
to god’s ceiling.

All along
I sew the
unhinged petals and the fruits
and pruned and tattered
green shoes and suits
like buttons
to my shirts and skirts
and tell only the good tales
of what is out there
so their white can shine
and dazzle
amidst my restrain;
i make them tea
out of the diluted pain
I learned
and pray
I won’t ever teach.

Not only because the wires allow it,
but you can call me at midday
and ask for spoons
and mind you, I rarely have any
but I will bend the sunset
just to make you some;
to preserve honesty,
whether I love you
or you are a junky that stops me
in the middle of the street
I will give you money for a train ticket.
I’ll help pack your suitcase
and I do and whisper
a thousand things per clock-waltz
so you, or you, or you
don’t have to
and because I think you are beautiful
and
if not, that you certainly can be
and, some day, if not right now,
you certainly will be
I know
I will serenade your heart
to well beyond my meager chamber
until you lose count
of all the horizons –
collected and sown.

The happiest of roots
is with a hunger of no end

so this is how I raise you,
a chipped flowerpot;
This is how I love you
disregarding
how a distant river we can smell,
twists and bends.

This is how I hold you,
until I am
outgrown.

*For NaPoWriMo day 1, where we were invited to make a self-portrait poem, by making an action done at specific times be a metaphor for ourselves. I chose to go with the action of replanting flowers, herbs or plants after they outgrew their initial pot. Hope you enjoy reading!

~ by Oloriel on April 1, 2020.

10 Responses to “The Object of Feelings”

  1. At “mud – stroking
    with its pebble teeth,” you had me. Great image!

  2. This is so good… the way you used your metaphor worked really well, especially in end when coming back to the roots.

    • Thank you very much Bjorn, I am glad that the circling around was noticeable; sometimes it is hard to evoke such things without using repetition.

  3. but you can call me at midday
    and ask for spoons
    and mind you, I rarely have any
    but I will bend the sunset
    just to make you some;

    Really really breathtaking imagery.

  4. I loved the metaphor, although it’s written for plants/flowers, it fits well for people too.
    I’m so glad you’re back. ❤
    I hope you're doing alright amid the pandemic.

Tell me something

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

 
clayandbranches

mapping the nest

Amethyst Review

New Writing Engaging with the Sacred

Anatolios Magazine

[ love letters to the light ]

Countdown To Classic

A World of Warcraft: Classic Podcast & Community

Highs n' Lows

Inform. Explore. Inspire.

The Wedding of Ken and Sarah

Coming to you August 17th, 2019 via the Wonders of the Internet!

Robert Hilles

Poet and Novelist

Bruised Rose Blossoms

Poet. Starscraper. Song whisperer. Niño de las estrellas.

Pointless Overthinking

Understanding ourselves and the world we live in.

MMPortfolio

Portfolio

Writings of Aakriti Kuntal

Clandestine tales cling to these forlorn ankles.

A Reading Writer

I write because I read. I read because I write.

The Bullet <3 Winston Smith

Music to burn Rome to

Ink the Lavender Skies

A place for the poetic explosions from my mind.

Rambling 'Riter

Musings of an Aspiring Poet

Numina

In form we find that which is formeless.

%d bloggers like this: