collaboration

I found a sheet of paper with some random scrawlings. Almost threw it in the trash, but then on a whim I sent it to a friend. John sent the words back as this. Strange things come out of womens purses sometimes. . .

First there is this:

sentience
echoes of a pounding heart
un-asked for dread
looking to the sky for answers
one ear to the ground
a natural alliance
in intangible connections.

The amethyst
beneath distressed wood and chipping paint
stubborn in its design
Buddhist expressions
listening for enlightenment
the package of unity found
on this door step
inexplicably dissolves everything
into itself


Then the words:

your voice

sinks deep

like gravity as it applies to heat

and then a skipped space and:

walking that line

where the crack in the sidewalk nurtures your vibe

must have been something we were talking about whatever day it was. . .

Hidden designs lodged into our psyche

Others may have seen it before we did

but it's hard to say


and then:

I give you my voice
and we tiptoe around
what can't be said.

You watch me turn
this into a dance
& sigh reminiscent

And I talk lullabies
in hillbilly drawl.

Conversations long
to stretch themselves thin

Patience..

We pass each other
shift-work.

Stories and thoughts
become play time

I take over
and you catch some zzzz's.

How can this be?
and
How can it not?

final thoughts..
for tonight at least


 

Reviews

[Brett Moore]

I've been bouncing around this site for a few years on and off and have rarely found any single piece that I felt compelled to reread this many times for sheer joy.

SO many lines - and I know we attach to different things, so I won't relist your entire poem here, but..I could - that are just captivating.

"And I talk lullabies/ in hillbilly drawl."
That may very well be a description of Elmore Leonard's voice as a writer.

The entirety of the first two stanzas is just excellent. Needless to say, I'm a fan.

[Emily B]

John was a remarkable soul. He brought out the best in me.

[Valentine]

Funny how different scribbles bring out different thoughts in different people. Valentine

[h d e rushin]

I miss him so very much......each day....every hour.......//dana

[Emily B]

Me, too, Dana, too much.

[emmajoy]

Have read and read this collaboration and finally find it a mystery play... more spiritual than most in the cafe, yet, close by rather than a flight of scripted fancy. Your two voices harmonise so well, seeing and feeling same but different - different emotions described but felt with soft individuality.

This work is beautifui.

[Emily B]

I miss him every day

[Corset]

Emily this is gorgeous, kinda like "tag" poetry between two beautifully wound souls, like a Ficus tree.

[Ken Simm.]

This is a cornocopia of wisdom, wit and just downright beauty.

[Schatzi]

Hello Emily,

I really enjoyed your opening verses:

"sentience
echoes of a pounding heart
un-asked for dread
looking to the sky for answers
one ear to the ground
a natural alliance
in intangible connections.

The amethyst
beneath distressed wood and chipping paint
stubborn in its design
Buddhist expressions
listening for enlightenment
the package of unity found
on this door step
inexplicably dissolves everything
into itself"

I thought this was very powerful and beautifully written. Job well done! Thank you for sharing!

Kind regards,

Schatzi

[Michele Devlin]

This was too deep for me I guess...I kept losing the train of thought, when it began and ended. It sounds like two people trying to communicate a single thought perhaps...it was unusual but not in an entirely unpleasant way.

[kmartell]

must have been something we were talking about whatever day it was...

one of those "see it" lines in the writers time... thanks,

[Celeste Lucy Zaveri]

Love it! Awesome, I say! Please read some of my writings, like “Angeline’s Goddess School” and “Glazebrook.” And I really love your writing – I should subscribe to you next time I get the chance!