Day 20 - "I know you in your poetry"

Wow.

This is certainly turning into the month that took a year, isn't it?

Interesting concept. I like it.

Today is a big day for me. I'm expecting this weekend will be a major life change for me. My fiancee and I will be reconciling our situation face-to-face for the first time - we haven't seen each other since early June. We've both gone through major shifts in our personality and attitude towards the world as well as incredible amounts of personal suffering and sadness over this decision.

To be honest, I have no idea what will happen. Que sera, sera I suppose.

This is also one of the last few days that I will be living at my family farm. It will be auctioned off soon and it's hard for me to bear thinking of it being totally gone. It's finally starting to hit me hard now that it's so close - I tried to ignore it for so long, but now it's time has come to stand up and refuse to be ignored any longer.

I'll be taking a long walk today along the land, remembering - storing images in my mind that I'll hopefully be able to hold onto for years to come.

Enough of this, though. It's too much to dwell on.

I wanted to post a poem today after last night's New Mystics meeting in Fairmont, which I heartily enjoyed and thank everyone for coming out and inspiring each other with their works.

Somewhat spontaneously, I had written a poem two nights ago based on something that Ted Webb had mentioned at one of our Morgantown Poets meetings earlier this month. It's something I've felt for quite a long time and had been unable to give it words, but thanks to Ted it was eventually able to make its way into ink. It's about listening to each others' work - something I'm able to do much more often these days given that I'm now a member of two poets' societies - and, more so, being able to know more about a person than most people ever get to know, just by hearing their hearts poured out upon the page in the way that they have chosen to craft their meaning; in the way that they personally adorn their emotions; how they choose to be and view the world; who they really are, inside. It has always fascinated me that whenever I read something that someone has written that means a lot to them or was written in secret or in confidence, I feel like, as I read those lines, I've never really, truly known that person until that moment, hearing those words. It's almost supernatural, the kind of link that is created when things like that are shared. It's a faith and a trust that exists in those instances. Maybe that's why it's so powerful... I'm not quite sure.

Anyway, I'd like to dedicate this poem to Ted, and I admit I'm secretly probably one of his biggest fans. Every one of his poems I've heard thus far seems to hit the mark precisely - he is easily one of the most talented poets I've had the privilege to share with between the two groups.

Also, before I get to the poem I would just like to 'shout out' to my old friend Micah Plante up in VT who has been constantly inspiring me with his music lately. Each one of his songs seems to just pop into my head from time to time and I find myself thinking, "what's that tune from?" and then I realize, "oh! that's right! that's micah!" It's funny - his songs tend to stick in my mind even more than all the catchy pop songs I unfortunately hear over the radio a bit too often, and that's really saying something, believe me. I know way too many bad songs and bad lyrics for no good reason. That's the double-edge of a poetic mind, though, isn't it? Whether you like it or not, your brain is forced to suck it up just the same. :)

If you're interested in good folksy singer/songwriter music, I'd give his stuff a try - you just might love it. His website is http://micahplante.bandcamp.com/ and his four song EP is only 5 bucks. Definitely worth a listen.

There, now that I've shamelessly plugged my friend, I present to you my latest work, and I hope that you all, as always, enjoy.


"I know you in your poetry"


I do not know your name

Or what you are,
How you came to be

I do not know your touch or smile

But I know you in your poetry

I have swam within your ocean
I have dug the earth you’ve made
I have heard the voice inside of you

That bold and fiery bursting sound
The one that booms
Like Krakatoa
Deafening the world around

Though whenever I have seen your face
My exterior says
It has nothing to say -
Nothing to you
To your well-stitched puppet
To your flesh disguise
And its enterprise

By this I mean
To cause no strife

But my button eyes
They have looked beyond your button eyes
And have seen each and every
Nook and cranny
Each rip and tear
Each nom de guerre
Each naked secret of your life

And now they cannot help
But know
Behind this
Punch and Judy show
Lie sunlit gardens
Of your soul

And when they find these
To be more real

They cannot bear
To view you as
That dangling, awkward marionette
Still hanging from
This old vignette

I ask you then
To whisper to me
Another private minuet;
Perform a scene behind your skin

And I will journey there
With you again -
Our artful hands at rest once more
In rich, familiar fantasies

But please, no names -
They mean nothing here

No more characters, acts, or revelry

Here
Your everything is plain to me

Let nothing else escape your tongue

I know you in your poetry


- Joshua Clarke