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live and love

I am a Frisbee in the birch tree's branches, watching
     as the wind steals water from the clouds
I am the brick-red public school
    where you walked shyly through each crowd.
I am the sole lamp left on,
    the last one up, in a house where you once slept
I am the back seat of your family car
    where you once slept through cornfield miles

                I am the yellow printed pillow
whose face, first taught you how to kiss
I am the Sunroom's TV set
whose lone voice could send you back to sleep
I am the bottle of cheap champagne
who first taught you what it felt like
I am the gap between your bed and floor
Where you would hide your thoughts inside a box

I am the blankest ocean waves
    who first spit salt inside your mouth
I am the weathered sleeping bag
    where you made love that night
I am the lit pink room, inside your parent’s house
    that you once locked so carefully

I am all the things you've left behind.

Reviews

[Nicole]

Wow. Cool asss.
Loved this.. it reminds me of just hanging out with my friends takin' in the world around us..aka tokin' it up.
Really great imagery. :D

[Barbara Walker]

What wonderful imagery of the things left behind after we have grown and gone. It felt a little lonely, but also, as if these were things that would always "be", because they live in our memory. A beautiful poem! Barbara

[Todd]

I had to read this twice, which means I love it. This poem is a perfect slip from childhood, getting less and less innocent as it goes along. I feel like the recipient, the one the narrator speaks to, has done something horrible - perhaps he's taken his own life. At least, that's what I get out of the careful locking of the door. I do not know, all I do know is that the effect is chilling. You don't give too much or too little, just enough. Again, your word play is beautiful. The poem flows gracefully, and there is real movement from one point to another. Thank you for this.

[RHEA CROSLEY]

Very creative view of things left behind. Thanks for the good write.

[Butch Decatoria]

I have read this before, but had no moment at the time to review and comment--so now, after a second time, I must applaud you. Well done, a perfect poem--with every word a strand that creates a tapestry everyone will enjoy... Your memories are vivid, which shows in the details; and that last line in summation of every flashback--brilliant, packs a punch--nothing else to wonder--if... marvelous work.

My favorite line:"...as the wind steals water from the clouds" and "...the yellow printed pillow whose face first taught you how to kiss" (you should delete that comma, I don't think it's necessary). Thanks for sharing this...

~Pfluffer~~

[MissRed]

I LOVE this! So beautiful. I'll be reading this one again, I know.

[KEENAMARiE]

so honest. so talented.

[emz]

i really enoyed reading this... i am the yellow printed pillow, whose face first taught you how to kiss, i love that line.. it is pure innocent truth... i think we all have a yellow printed pillow, locked in the back of our minds.

excellent poem

x

[julian3]

This is exquisite. The flow of words, with every line triggering a memory, painting a picture, displaying a photograph within the mind of the reader, is smooth and unstrained.
"Where once you slept through cornfield miles' is a fine a line as I have read in a long time. And,
"Where you would hide your thoughts inside a box" - a line that everyone can relate to from the secret moments of childhood passed.
Keep up the good work.

[Hide From God]

That is a very good piece. I enjoyed reading it. Everything that we grew up with, the memories each object holds. Whether or not you remember it. very good! I really enjoyed reading it!