patchouli promises

the subtle scent of patchouli
returns me to languid summer days
reminding me of the ways
the sun shimmered
through my hair.

my bright red chevy (bella)
held pieces of passion
in her brazen cherry paint.
she hugged those curves
the way i held the world.

the sounds of the grateful dead
wafted through camellia-essenced air…

and i found pieces of my soul there.

there in that delicate delirium between
woman
and child
(that beautiful balance between
latent
and wild)

bob marley and phish
were my drugs of preference
(i was high on the essence
and heat of the sun)
as it bounced off bella
and reminded me
(i am still so young).

that ibanez guitar
(so beautiful and blue)
taught my fingers how to feel
and my heart how to hear
-the music in my soul-
was so authentic and clear.

if i could return to those
hazy, lazy
liquid summer days...
i would taste the deliciousness
of my lovely, naive smile.

and i could believe in
the sunshine
for just... a little... while.

Reviews

[The Language of Birds]

Hello Kara,

Great poem!

I love the alliteration of the title, and I can smell it too. What a perfect point of entry.

In fact, this poem is packed with sensory detail. You have fully engaged me in this fantastic piece from beginning to end. You are also able to tread away from an overly sentimental wistfulness for the innocent past. Instead, this poem matches you in your desire (mentioned in your bio) It is as true as your blue Ibanez guitar.

Way to go.

Jim C-D

[Melinda Horvath]

I loved the way this poem made me feel. It was like a nice day dream.

and i could believe in
the sunshine
for just... a little... while.

[Kasia A. Tilander]

my bright red chevy (bella)
held pieces of passion
in her brazen cherry paint.
she hugged those curves
the way i held the world.

I loved this stanza!
Who says we have to let go of those days. These are the days we remember, these are the moments we hold on to because in the blink of an eye they are gone. Beautifully written.

Kasia.

[Sarah Williams]

There is such flavor and honesty in this poem! I'm very impressed! I too have memories of my youth like this, driving with the wind in my hair, the music blaring and feeling the state of not quite fitting in to the category of child or of woman. You've written this with an amazing poetic voice, very nostalgic. You should be proud of this piece, my dear!

there in that delicate delirium between
woman
and child
(that beautiful balance between
latent
and wild)

--my favorite lines!

[Brett Campaigne]

the descriptions are rich, but their connectors to you are too straight forward

"and i found pieces of my soul there"

[EGabriellS]

Very pretty. It makes me want to go outside and hang out (too bad it's the middle of winter).

[Rebirth And Introspecti..]

This is yummy. All of the emotion, it moves fluidly between emotion and experience, drawing romanticism in at the door. I too am a lover of patchouli.
But I am awed by the way you intertwine your senses with this peice, I feel like I just had a 5 course meal, and not the kind where you find the nearest McDs afterward and feast on a bigmac...

[JP thinks the WC is apt..]

Kara, this is wonderful. It transports me back to halcyon days...days when we were free to be free-spirited, without a thought of mortgages, car payments and wage slavery. This kind of summer day is rare in the UK. But every now and then we do get them - colourful, sweet-scented, romantic, nostalgic days. Your piece has me pining for the summers of my youth now. Great work.

[Girl, Interrupted]

"she hugged those curves
the way i held the world"

dont i know it! thats what i feel like when i drive my MINI. and its red too.

[Jeanmarie Flaherty]

"there in that delicate delirium between
woman
and child "

You.Never.Have.To.Give.That.Up.

I keep hearing bells on broomstick skirts, bare feet circling in patterns of youthful dances through the grass, and hair as free as teenage girls...you can hear laughter in this piece, and it lilts through winter as if daring it to try to touch one summer memory.

Completely. Totally. Beautiful.

love.me.

[Richard K]

I wish I could have shared that world with you. This reminds me of times on this grassy hill, with a group of friends, just watching the clouds pass as someone strums the guitar in the distance. You can still go there, you know. There's always time to go back, m'dear. :)