Roswila's Dream & Poetry Realm

SEE ALSO: TRYING TO HOLD A BOX OF LIGHT (photos, realistic to abstract)

Wednesday, August 08, 2007

WATER LANGUAGE (A Poem by Patricia Kelly)


The shapeless language
of water invades my life

Pots and watering cans splash
and slip from my grasp

Leaky faucets wear
at the ragged islands
of my sleep

Another pet fish dies,
tilted against the breast
of a mermaid

My rug soaks up the rain
as a bent gutter gushes
like a manic mouth
and old window frames weep

Today, they replace the bent
drain pipe.
My walls tremble.

They pound the window frames
out into sudden emptiness.
I flinch.

They heft new lenses
into each open frame:

Ah, the trees,
surely the trees
never offered their arms
like this before,

never danced, fey dancers
conjuring joy,

never felt so green

* * * *

This poem was written in 1987 and revised in 2002. I was reminded of it recently with all the rain we have been having this year in the states. New York City has been having it's own "water language" crisis, too. Such as a recent burst steam pipe under the street in midtown Manhattan, which was particularly unnerving. The early news footage of the steam filled with white and sometimes muddy debris erupting several stories into the air, was all too reminiscent of 9/11 images. Then this morning, we had a tornado in Brooklyn (southwest of where I live in Queens) and lots of flooding all around the city. They can't find any record of there having ever been a tornado in Brooklyn before, by the way.

Hope you all are staying dry and comfy.

[I've had the above photo on my computer for years and it's source site is long since defunct -- www.birds.fl.]

* * * *

Resource: trees, if you please, a blog dedicated to trees, one of my favorite entities on this still glorious planet.

‘til next time, keep dreaming,


[aka: Patricia Kelly]

****If you wish to copy or use any of my writing or poems, please email me for permission (under “View my complete profile”)****My other blogs ROSWILA’S TAROT GALLERY & JOURNAL and ROSWILA’S TAIGA TAROT.

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At 7:32 AM , Blogger Eva Yaa Asantewaa said...

A beauty of a poem!

At 10:15 AM , Blogger Roswila said...

You can't know how delighted I am to read your comment. It's one of those poems that's just been gathering dust in my files for years. Even in the years when I was doing poetry readings and would read it, it didn't generate much response. Guess you weren't ever at one of those readings! :-)

At 6:49 PM , Blogger Marcia (MeeAugraphie) said...

I would love to hear it read! I wasn't there either.

This is one of my favorites, Roswila Patricia.

At 8:29 PM , Blogger Roswila said...

Marcia, you do my heart good. This is one of those poems that happens to be fun to read, especially once the trees enter the picture.

Hearing from you and Eva that you like this poem (and having a few other old poems posted here "redeemed" in the same way) makes me wonder about something I've believed about my poetry. That people appreciate it/get it more when I read it aloud to them. Seems that may not necessarily be the case. I.e, I believed that my personality somehow made up for any "deficiencies" in the poem on the page. I wonder if other poets have thought about this. If they find a difference in how their work is received when they read it out loud, or when others simply read it "cold," on the page.


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