poem: Note 6 penned on a night in January, 2014: I have not written for you in a while

I have not written you poetry

in a while.

it is because every day with you

becomes

more and more of a living poem,

artfully drafted as the unsaid things

that no longer tiptoe

through the rooms of our houses.

I gather them each morning and put

them on; I wear them.

like an old housecoat some days,

others, as a fitted cleavage inspiring

corset, cut down to there.

with black lace stockings.

and if you are my poet, I am

your journal-

you write your story on my pages

and it becomes, simply,

our story- a living breathing frantic thing,

an indigo bunting, trapped,

I think.

confined in cages the width of

human desire

and with a floor made of the

astounding perception

of human capacity. for acceptance.

I have not written for you in

a while because...

every time you wrap your arms

around me

the words escape their confines

and write themselves;

into their rightfully found place

among the greatest untold stories.

kept secret in the annals of

all of humanity's

undocumented but maybe not quite

unrequited loves.

Author's Note

translated into Spanish at:

http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/zorra_encantada/1297238/

Reviews

[Corset]

Your voice always talks to something in me, the way you form and express yourself, and this poem speaks to the balance of all the sides of a personality of a person who knows how to give love, but like myself not always sure of the capability to sustain that gravitational pull to provide a life long basis for elliptical revolve, in other words, this poem feels like it is on the precipice of something very real and sustainable,
something akin to air, as natural as breathing, and that is how it should be..at least that is how I would want my love to be, one of the worlds greatest wonders.

[Marie Anzalone]

Is life long enough for anything but putting true passion into our loves and lives and work? I honestly do not think it is.

[Corset]

On a morning I woke up screaming these are welcome words I'll try to focus on, there are entirely too many passions having a spitting contest in my head.

[Marie Anzalone]

I have those days, too. Doctors say hormone imbalance; I say it it because I am too passionate to live in dispassionate times.

[Corset]

me too my friend, me too.

[ChemicalMadness]

it would be so nice if this explained why i have not written.....i truly hope such things keep you away, dear ;)

CM.

[Marie Anzalone]

Lots of things keep me away. But here is what I say: I know I am with the right person when I awake every day wanting to write poetry because that person exists in my world... and wanting to make it better poetry in all aspects of life in honor of him or her.

I've caught glimspes of that relationship, and will settle for no less.

[writing mojo]

you have me bone sold in your amount of soul debt checked and balanced in this piece...amazing

[Marie Anzalone]

soul debt... I wonder how many of us are lucky enough to work ours off in a single lifetime?

[Georgia Gypsy]

Sometimes I find myself blown away with how you've captured a thought/emotion that I have struggled to put into words myself....and where I have failed, you triumph!
this: 'I have not written for you in
a while because...
every time you wrap your arms
around me
the words escape their confines
and write themselves;'
it says it all, and I find nothing else can be said to improve it!
GG

[Marie Anzalone]

Thanks, GG, for the kind review, and for seeing the meaning of my words. tryign to get back into writing creatively, and it has been a slow process made difficult by the presence of a person who does not give me time to meditate or live a non-pressured existence. Hoping that changes in a few weeks.

[h d e rushin]

alexander pope, in his poem "the rape of the lock" would turn the transmigrated souls of different kinds of women into free spirits, water spirits or air spirits. In this poem the woman (and I suspect it is a woman) turns from wife, to vixen, to compassionate princess, to lover. Marvelous, how in your
poetry there is this constant oscillation, this varying between two opposing beliefs. What a wonderful
writer you are my friend.

and I missed you.
dana

[Marie Anzalone]

dana, my apologies. It has been a 75 hour work week for me, so I am just getting back to your reviews and kind comments now, when I am clear-headed enough to write.

In this poem, the narrator is actually myself, writing to a very real person. So, yes, a woman writing of love- but of an unrequited one, perhaps. I think that many women-girls- live lives of such insidious repression, that we are amazed when the layers get peeled back, just how many identities we find under those old coats. Gangster, mistress, maven, nursemaid, princess, Earhart. Is not our reason to be, to teach each other how to soar? Love has never taken a single form... and it never will.

[Emily B]

in a land full of magic, poetry only needs poets to notice when it is writing itself :)

[Marie Anzalone]

I think every day should be a poem.

I was reminded of this last night after a 4 hour fight with someone I have tried stopping the fighting with for over a year. I went to bed to read, and every dog in town started barking at once, for no reason I could discern. Hundreds of dogs, barking almost in synch. Is was decidely eerie, and like nothing I hjave ever heard before. We seem ot be entering a state of heightened seismic activity, and I cannot help but think of reports of animals behaving oddly days before a huge quake. Maybe nothing, but we get ones up to 8.0 here and the infrastructure is not built to handle that. I was reminded to take nothing for granted.

[Emily B]

be safe and well, we fought through the storms of 2013 . . . we have survived to continue the fight and learn and ascend in this new year, stay strong