Sunday, December 19, 2010

Entre Nous



This is where I love you.

Oh yes...

Here, where little black plastic wheels bring the dawn in on a cart,

Where lightning has turned our little sand burrows into glass

And we goggle

At how many different faces we have broken into.



The rooster is dead.

We soon will be, so kiss me now,

Right here...

We'll pretend the black mold is dark grapes

And that we are goddesses

Lazing in the baths, those spaces between panic and blankness.



Did you think I loved you

In a better way?

With dainty little shoes to kick off as I sit on the fresh hotel bed?

Would there be little mints?

A magnum?

A rose falling  with the languorous, unpromised hours?



I tell you,

The rooster is dead,

The fox is hiding.



Here, we lean,

Like sick trees, denied enough light.

It is here that I love you,

Here that I tat together the bubbles that will stop my heart

In the moment that I reach for you,

To place a veil between this place and every hope that ever came in carrying a clip board,

Saying,

Oh yes, yes, bring this one,

And we will see...



The rooster is dead,

The fox is hiding.

This is the place where I love you,

Where the corridors split like bronchi,

And I finally whisper,

Please,

Don't leave me here.

I am instantly shamed by my weakness,

But I never know whether to crow, be silent,

Or just

Admire your beauty through the musty parallax

Of this place I have always called home.

_______

for One Shoot Sunday 

I am back, darlings, typing away madly on my new netbook. My welcome back is to be soundly outdone on this prompt by the evil Hedgewitch.

23 comments:

signed...bkm said...

Glad you are back and going strong as ever...love the reference to the rooster and fox...the inbetween ...held together with love and hope...bkm

hedgewitch said...

To employ a much over-used word, I find this one rather epic. About the journey and the destination, and the ones involved in making this most long and convoluted trip, all their snap shots in a slideshow they're watching (seperately or together? both?) from either the white hotel room or the den behind the dumpster. The dead rooster seems almost as threatening as the hidden fox, and the union as scary as the division amidst the bronchi and other body parts.

Very glad you got yourself up and running to post this today. It's excellent.

dustus said...

Snuffed roosters, mangnums, and heart bubbles in this corroding world we enter vulnerable, conditioned to perceive angles that leave us to often, hurt marrow-deep, and play deaf to the choir of longing. Welcome back!

Brian Miller said...

yeah shays back...the rooster is dead, long live the rooster...thanks for taking us on this journey shay...

repressedsoul said...

Insane roosters, who have died! Shay this was great, thanks for lightening my evening reading!

Adam White - Poet said...

I think I just crapped in my pants at how brilliant this is. Don't think I would've got round to reading it tonight, so I'm glad you commented on mine. Awesome work.

Claudia said...

you know - there are so many brilliant lines and bubbling emotions in this poem but (hate me for it) the line i loved most is...
where little black plastic wheels bring the dawn in on a cart..
this is just fabulous..

gospelwriter said...

Oh, this is beautiful... and painful too, in an understated sort of way. I was caught immediately by the opening words: This is where I love you, and then the here, here, and here of it. So much that's memorable in your poem - hope carrying clip boards... corridors splitting like bronchi... too much to mention really, in a comment.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Oh. My. Freaking. God. Even your new computer must stand, amazed, at the brilliance of this. SO many incredible lines, thoughts, creative leaps. Whew. I must go read the evil Hedgewitch's offering now. But methinks you have topped the charts with this one. YAY! You are DEFINITELY Back!:)

Rene/ Not The Rockefellers said...

hot damn...it's so nice to have you back.


"In the moment that I reach for you,

To place a veil between this place and every hope that ever came in carrying a clip board,

Saying,

Oh yes, yes, bring this one,

And we will see..."

Christ, girl, I surrender :)

Hope said...

yes...the in between! love the last bit ' But I never know whether to crow, be silent, or just admire your beauty through the musty parallax of this place I have always called home'

fantastic write!

thank you

moondustwriter said...

Sorry reminds me of Hamlet-

"But even then the morning cock crew loud,
And at the sound it shrunk in haste away,
And vanish'd from our sight."
Hamlet Act 1 Scene 2

maybe the cock died after seeing the ghost

glad to have you back Shay

Adam White - Poet said...

Soooo, myself and Hedgewitch both think you should be on Twitter, tweeting and twittling away about your poetry so that I can follow you and be kept up to date on how brilliant you obviously are. Sort it out. I'm @zerodemon.

Gigi Ann said...

I think my favorite lines are:

"The rooster is dead.
We soon will be,
so kiss me now,
Right here..."

Love those lines. LOL.. they just strikes me as funny.

Glynn said...

I love how this moves from love and hope to love and almost fear of losing love - and back again (and back again). Nice one.

Beachanny said...

I'm impressed you did all this from a prompt! Wow and glad you're back. I like your work so much! The end was my favorite although I like the entire piece and how it flowed.
I gleaned from this "the love that dared not speak its name. Dark, edgy, sexy!

faye said...

The rooster may be dead but the
computer lives and rules the roost...
well, your computer anyway.

Think I saw that statue of the
woman in an art gallery last week..

Joanna Jenkins said...

You are on a roll. This is terrific. Glad you're back and the computer is humming again.

Cheers, jj

Neva Flores said...

absolutely delicious!

LulĂș said...

What a comeback, and oh, I love how you find the perfect images to go with your masterpieces! The world is back to "normal" again. ;)

christopher said...

I will just say wow! I very much like the repetition, which turns poetry into song when done as well as this.

Lynn said...

Tatting together the bubbles... The imagery there is awesome.

Congrats on the new netbook, FB. :)

Mama Zen said...

Damn, this is brilliant.