Saturday, January 1, 2011

UT09: The First Poem of 2011

A Lasting

Things that have given birth number greater than people;

there are efforts to hope, forging to ahead, and butterfly cocoons

of thought. There is a part of me that sidles in a whittling corner,

shards of wood and stone and glass strewn about, unequivocally

small and significant – ailing to hope, to forge, to pupate. There

is a part of you that addles in a sliding corner, shards of glass

and stone and steel sewn about, unreprimandably large and scorned –

ailing to hope, to forge, to forget. We forgot the flowers,

to plant them with care in these corners as to give birth to color

and to breath. Things that have given birth include gasps,

cries, and shattering weight of fists and fits. We are strong

gasps for air, cries for more mercy, and shattering nerves

under a resolve to live a perfect life. We give birth to pictures

of landscapes and walks in blizzard snow – paper easily torn and

powder-crunch footprints soon covered, but lasting in experience.