deepundergroundpoetry.com
Not Yet Swans
We were fooled last week
when so many things outside
were tipped in green
And though darkness is
your favorite color,
you disrobed from it
and kicked it under the bed
As you accepted Spring
to your bosom
You shook your hair back
and offered your throat
to the kiss of something
renewing
all of your tips to pink
At first, I felt like a bird
fidgeting upon your window ledge
(edge of your bed)
I suffered the settling
for at least bread crumbs
Two pieces, one
in each of your hands
I doubt my soft begging
sounded like a song
I doubt my grey plumage
ever impressed anyone
Yet your hands opened anyway
as you begged in return
for me to be impatient
And so I was
Our eyes were as bedridden
as our bodies
While we touched everywhere
that Spring had touched
just that morning
Partaking of our
renewables
time and time again
We must have over-indulged
Because during,
Winter pushed back cruelly
Yet our windows projected
invisibility, to what was outside
-As Mother Nature scorned us
for our promiscuity
All she had at first, though
was her wind quarreling
against the window
Distracted, we thought
the pounding was only us
The Day suffered for us
as the swans down at the lake
tucked their chins
and bristled their feathers
in the wind
I'm sure they called out
as they flew away
(Because nature does send
its heralders.
But we weren't listening)
The lake shivered
across its own surface
It re-gathered its cracks
and mended them into
an opaque shield
that repelled the promises
of better days to come
A canoe was caught
during its unuse
anchored by the ice
With a rope of now glass
freezing the compulsion
to untether from the shore
As I, tethered to you
whispered for more
Perhaps the canoe will be
a planter for more snow
Forced patience
While Winter recaptures
all dominion.
I knew you had to,
when you pulled darkness
back out from under the bed
-Something less cold
than the returning air
As I looked for my shadow
so that I too could hide
within something dim
But my shadow had left
with the swans
They dragged it under them
as it thrashed atop the trees
Like an eraser
for anything green
Like an empty hole
where reflections
should have been.
*
Published 20th Apr 2022
Author's Note
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 4
reading list entries 3
comments 6
reads 145
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20th Apr 2022 6:51pm
This is exceptionally well written, glad your kind comment led me here.
20th Apr 2022 10:03pm
Thank you much. My reward is reading quality material from my peers, such as yours. It's motivation to continue the literary journeys.
20th Apr 2022 9:29pm
And I'm truly truly glad you decided to finish... Here's to healing up asap, hope the break is not too serious....
This piece and your writing, per usual, stands out, above.
Period.
I feel incredibly fortunate to have you here with us, Styx....
Utterly fantastic ink
🌹 - 💙
B
This piece and your writing, per usual, stands out, above.
Period.
I feel incredibly fortunate to have you here with us, Styx....
Utterly fantastic ink
🌹 - 💙
B
20th Apr 2022 10:29pm
Yeah but it doesn't "stand out" as much as my thumb right now! It could've been much worse, so I will take (another) puny little break. At least it was my left hand. I'm right handed. I'm really good at dealing with adverse bodily conditions. Lol.
I actually finished the work day, yesterday, saying it's fine, it's fine. Because I'm also stupid!
As for your wonderful comment, while I don't thrive on praise, because I do have an ingrained modesty (like many writers who strive to be satisfied), I take comments as encouragement to keep going with this stuff. This fire breathing dragon that they call poetry.
I'm here to feed the Dragon. Your Dragon too. And other writers who strive to find that satisfaction in what they write. We help each other make it worth it.
I actually finished the work day, yesterday, saying it's fine, it's fine. Because I'm also stupid!
As for your wonderful comment, while I don't thrive on praise, because I do have an ingrained modesty (like many writers who strive to be satisfied), I take comments as encouragement to keep going with this stuff. This fire breathing dragon that they call poetry.
I'm here to feed the Dragon. Your Dragon too. And other writers who strive to find that satisfaction in what they write. We help each other make it worth it.
21st Apr 2022 8:04am
Dear S,
I really like how you can masterfully intertwine nature with human activity. I can either write about birds or I can complain about humans. What I can’t do is blend them to make a poem like the above. I admire that ability. I was hooked from start to finish watching how the story line played out. Incredible narration of life and its wistful side. I’m sorry to hear about your thumb. I wish you a speedy recovery and hope it isn’t too horribly painful. I’m glad it didn’t prevent you from finishing and posting this piece. H🌷
I really like how you can masterfully intertwine nature with human activity. I can either write about birds or I can complain about humans. What I can’t do is blend them to make a poem like the above. I admire that ability. I was hooked from start to finish watching how the story line played out. Incredible narration of life and its wistful side. I’m sorry to hear about your thumb. I wish you a speedy recovery and hope it isn’t too horribly painful. I’m glad it didn’t prevent you from finishing and posting this piece. H🌷
22nd Apr 2022 2:48am
Hello H. (The thumb ain't too bad. I've broke it before, so I'm an experienced breaker. Lol)
So many of us are niche writers. Maybe it's the familiarity, the comfort of doing what we know? I do a lot (most) of writing while sitting on my back porch. So perhaps that's why I pull nature aspects into so much of my stuff. It's not a bad place to think and write, except for the AC unit popping on and off, lol. Good ol Florida!
I'm glad that you got some enjoyment out of reading this. I appreciate the nod. I was pretty satisfied with the result. -It was either post this poem or the one about shooting a guy... lol.
So many of us are niche writers. Maybe it's the familiarity, the comfort of doing what we know? I do a lot (most) of writing while sitting on my back porch. So perhaps that's why I pull nature aspects into so much of my stuff. It's not a bad place to think and write, except for the AC unit popping on and off, lol. Good ol Florida!
I'm glad that you got some enjoyment out of reading this. I appreciate the nod. I was pretty satisfied with the result. -It was either post this poem or the one about shooting a guy... lol.
