when I am very tired

I close my eyes, I rocket
from my sockets into the fractal sky
and when I find myself, I mean way out there
deep in space, in the dark blue silence
I will contemplate the science between man
and that which is not man, like

how like trees we are, how patient
trees must be to live in such a way. To sway
to run in place, to learn to love
the landscapes they were born to. I believe
books are just trees that learned to walk
driven mad by what was barely out of reach.
There must be fields of paper snow, blankets
of scattered pages selling silent stories
to the sky. Somewhere, way out there
arboreal ghosts still litter empty hills
where the deepest instinct of the forest
once whispered like wind
amongst its curious wandering branches
the need to sprout
to separate from the earth and stampede like beasts
out of the frame. I pine
for their passion. I will often stand still
in my living room for months
just to shake loose my leaves
and die for a while

though in reality, I can never die
because there is one thing nothing
can ever steal from me:
my quiet energy

that fire I expel with every breath, every failure. They will never
wrench it back from the sticky fingers
of time's boneless embrace. My art is here
and my words are me; if I could have my way
I would learn to walk
I would fade into the hills
and they would remain
to take
my place.

Reviews

[Angi]

I am completely taken with the images of trees turned to books that have learned to walk! What fantastic thoughts that must have traveled through your mind to arrive at those lines! Then the static lines of the speaker standing in his living room (shaking loose leaves) for months at a time. His words on pages that have come from those trees and are learning to walk on even as he fades into dust. Fantastic, P.! Angi~

[p.kuhl]

Thank you very much for visiting and reading!

[pixie]

Great poem. I enjoyed it very much.
Good luck with your future writing.

[Frieda P]

Awe inspiring read, love the stillness of it.

I believe
books are just trees that learned to walk
driven mad by what was barely out of reach.

Brilliant line...enjoyed reading this one very much.

[p.kuhl]

Thanks so much for your kind words

[Frieda P]

Well deserved, my pleasure.

[Pryde Foltz]

Oh...yeah. The way you meld the tree with 'the page' is masterful. There is great literary and spiritual value in this piece. And beyond that, you have such a unique pen. I love the way you are able to let go of yourself and 'just suppose' such a gift.

[p.kuhl]

Thank you so much! It is strange to feel like just an observer of the way one's own poetic voice develops. It feels so like me to write in this style but I could never explain why that is.

[Pryde Foltz]

I sometimes think the poet's job is to listen and record.

[Abhra]

This is a gorgeous poem, my friend. Your imagery is exquisite and your writing has a sense of slowness and poise which I admire. To me the second paragraph/stanza stands out the most. I also love the last stanza as well. There are many lines which are astonishingly beautiful, for instance,

'books are just trees that learned to walk
driven mad by what was barely out of reach.'

and

'I will often stand still
in my living room for months
just to shake loose my leaves "

and
'I would learn to walk
I would fade into the hills
and they would remain
to take
my place.'

But if you will I just have a minor critique..I somehow felt that the first stanza/paragraph seems a little subdued compared to what follows. I mean when I read the first paragraph I had a complete different notion of what will unfold and I got completely something completely different (which rocked as I mentioned before). I somehow think that such a splendid poem may benefit from a equally exquisite beginning. But that's just my opinion.

Splendid work!

[p.kuhl]

Thanks, for the feedback, I agree the beginning is missing something. I worked late on the middle section last night and had meant to add more up front as well, but I ha run out of steam. I will probably revisit this soon

[Emily B]

how do i coherently express how far and above and beyond your regular poetry this piece is? you've hit a new level, walking up there among the clouds with books that learned to walk

how did you learn to be so poetic at such a young age? i imagine we could all learn a thing or three from words like these

[p.kuhl]

Thanks Emily, you always know how to compliment a young poet...I'm not sure I have even found the science yet, but I am persistent and I think that's important. I have a lot to inspire me.

[Emily B]

whatever 'it' is, you have it :)

[Glen Yumang Manese]

Your addition sounds more in depth and the focus is clearer to the reader...one can elaborate more into the lines...I like the visual of the trees...I wrote one about trees..a while ago...some years back...and this reminds me a bit of it...of course...our themes are much different in design...thanks for sharing this one...I will have to come back and have at it with your verses...

[Glen Yumang Manese]

Interesting concept of words here about the subject matter:

deep in space, in the dark blue silence,
I contemplate the science between man
and that which is not man, like

how like trees we are, how patient
trees must be to live that way. I often stand still
in my living room for months
just to lose my leaves
and die for a while

and the rest of the way you take us as a reader with this one...those lines capture this verse...and made me go to the end to see your conclusion...

[p.kuhl]

Just added a bit more to the middle, not sure the original had quite enough