letheA Poem by Deepwood's Hartso i won't forget
Birth at the age of eighteen
I was the infant and the placenta Red and hollering after long years entombed. Driven forth from the womb of the earth From the desert rock I came blistered and tottering. O my twin, O Romulus When the great wolf suckled you You latched firmly onto her teat. I cried and cried and refused to eat - Became weak and hungry. When you killed me I became you Became your city walls and aqueducts Became the language of your people And the traveler who weeps. The lover called to me from her island keep Calling me false, which I always claimed to be. Immolated she bemoaned an untrue lover While I pondered the necessity of absence. My son, I do these things for you. Love no women because they may soon love you. These gods are fickle and spiteful creatures It is to man to teach them belongingness and nursery things. Little Lamb, little lamb Let me hide beneath your belly Out of sight and touch and memory. Let the peacock find me scowling beneath the wool I pulled over the strong one's eye. I came at last to a land I thought I knew Where my lover claimed to wait. In the hollow of a tree's strong trunk I found ashes And the place deserted, burnt The way that lovers always are. I am an old man and One can never be young enough to start over. My daughter, guide my hands my feet. O mother, let us dissolve into the water And mix our ashes with the wind. Let me press forward into the river rushing. I do not remember who I was or where I have come from Only my feet are blistered and I am filled with longing. I looked behind me and saw a face One I had known. It vanished So I drank and drank and fell asleep Beside the forgetful river. When I awoke I found a hard land before me And worlds inscribed in the flesh of my hand. © 2010 Deepwood's HartReviews
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4 Reviews Added on July 27, 2010 Last Updated on July 27, 2010 AuthorDeepwood's HartNMAbouti'm really not all that much to talk about. i joined the army a year ago (as a cadet, so not the "real army" but i'm getting there) and, due to space and material constraints, i no longer pursue th.. more..Writing
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