The World Outside

Since my stroke, I deal with a shrunken world.
Surprisingly, a shrunken desire to visit,
also has emerged; I'd buy a coffin
to hold in readiness, but I'll be cremated
and a cardboard box is all I need, I'm told,
for that.  Here's my dollar bill.

Were I from India, a barge could take me
to the current in the Ganges
where fire upon the water sanctifies
the journey to transmogrify a western soul,
afixing it forever to the earth.

Within the bubble of my consciousness,
however, my universe embraces endless joy,
and it is yours, as well.
To quantify reality in any way
succumbs to madness.

Somewhere, someone has it figured out.
The wind is at his back;
he knows impassively
that there is singing in the hills,
and always there are problems to give life
to every celebration planned, and right behind
someone to love and demonstrate
compassion.

Someone.
Someone to teach us to listen.
Someone...
Please, let there always be Someone
           ~

Reviews

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

One note of correction:

"succombs to madness." should be "succumbs to madness."

I had to revisit this one again today. It is so profound and just really resonates with me. I actually thought about you and this poem last night and today.

You have to know how good it really is.

[Dean]

yes. Thanks. I'll make the correction immediately/ And, thank you for insisting on praise. The piece just did not feel right even when I wrote it--too self-referencing, for one thing, and poor conclusion. But, you da boss. :-)

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

I always love a bit of "spark" with sadness, and you have accomplished this in spades.

First let me say that I am sorry about your stroke, but I am ever so grateful that you are here to share with the rest of us.

I'd have to quote this entire poem if I were to quote my favorite part. Each is a part of the whole, and it would be incomplete without any part of it.

How you depict a shrunken world after your stroke, the sudden shrunken desire to visit, and how your remains will fit in a cardboard box all speak of a solemn acceptance of a reality that you cannot change. Yet, you still have that hopefulness that there is someone, that irreducible someone in the end.

This is my favorite poem of yours thus far. It's like a purple prism - dark without the light; but when you shine a light on it, it bursts into a kaleidoscope of color.

Beautiful!

1000/1000

[Dean]

glad you like it, although I think it has lots of limitations...like most of my stuff recently. Thanks, doll

[J. J. Nightingale]

I doubt that Dean ... :)

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

I must respectfully disagree. You're being your own worst critic, but I'm always right. :-) Just accept it and write another great poem. You're great.

[Dean]

I hope to write a better one!

[J. J. Nightingale]

it's good to hope ... ♥ ..

[Marie]

I'm sure ther'll always be Someone...
I don't know whether this poem is depressing or hopeful...

[Dean]

I rather hope that it is both.

[J. J. Nightingale]

I walk slowly .. and lose my way
Eventually.. is more time than it used to be
Faces are remembered.. sometimes
I'm lonely in a crowd .. and frighten easily
Is it Monday .. or..
Enough about me..............
Now tell me everything of you ... my hearing needs no aide
Dear Dean .... I'm here for you......................... Jazz xo

[Dean]

would much rather hear more about YOU

[J. J. Nightingale]

Almost no one says THAT now days ...........Thank you xo

[Dean]

Know that I mean it

[J. J. Nightingale]

I think I do ........................ ♥ ..

[BoyKitsch]

This was both very insightful and cultural. I loved the Ganges stanza. Overall you have a very creative side. The POV seem to jump around a bit but that's something I enjoyed. Write more!

[Dean]

I will, and yes....lots of faults in this one.

[J. J. Nightingale]

I don't see any faults ...............

[Dean]

perhaps one day...you will

[J. J. Nightingale]

........... Say not so .... .. :)

[Dean]

You are talking more today. Good sign!

[J. J. Nightingale]

Perhaps ... :)... I am alright ...

[Dean]

lpvely! May it stay so. :-)

[Chris]

Dean, there is ALWAYS coffee here awaiting your presence my friend. And I NEVER offer lightly.

I remember dancing in the hills - arm-in-arm... fire's light sparking off to a moon-and-star-filled sky. The Mediterranean Sea a dark sheeted jewel of glass.

I remember getting off the plane and kneeling and kissing the ground in welcome.

I remember The Wall and my friends gathered close and fading into the years.

I remember other "Walls" as well.

Come by anytime - I keep the coffee strong and hot.
Chris

[Dean]

Chris, I appreciate your personal comments so very much...even when the writing falls short.

[Chris]

the writing doesn't fall short - that is just our normal opinion of our own existence.

[Dean]

but for me, it so often does, as it does here. If I am at least learning from myself, it has a bit of merit. I can do better.

[Chris]

Doing "better" for me isn't the issue... It's being willing to always try.

[Dean]

that, I'm sure both of us do