Egg Shells
for T.L.C.
hungry for your verse
for your best and your worst
anything of you will do
don’t know how I get so, how I got so
spell you cast and I am smitten,
stricken,
in need of bush tea to cure me
of what I’m afflicted with
it must have been
the melon of your hips,
your sadness, your helplessness
which rendered me helpless
ever since, am I ill or well
elated or down cast
down trodden or lifted up
contact, I know
has changed me irrevocably
not the same since
little as the package is
which you are, which contains you
potent as death, as life, as waves
how angrily they crash
music they make
and the spectacle
blue sea suddenly white foam
what have I come up against,
gone up against
what’s come over me, gone over me
leaves me energized and spent
I feel like sixpence, spent
on toffee, candy, gum
youth of today want money
to buy guns
I want a girl to write poems of
to fill my pen with bullets or bubbles
I have poems to fire off
who I hit, fire to fall into
I fall in love
muddy when I rise, my clothes as well as I
in need of washing
I want you to, do you want to
go by the river side to bathe bare
clothes off our backs upon the rocks,
will dry while we swim
thin as egg shells, the space between us,
your skin on my skin
wet all over with river water
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
10:34 p.m. 14.12.07
for T.L.C.
hungry for your verse
for your best and your worst
anything of you will do
don’t know how I get so, how I got so
spell you cast and I am smitten,
stricken,
in need of bush tea to cure me
of what I’m afflicted with
it must have been
the melon of your hips,
your sadness, your helplessness
which rendered me helpless
ever since, am I ill or well
elated or down cast
down trodden or lifted up
contact, I know
has changed me irrevocably
not the same since
little as the package is
which you are, which contains you
potent as death, as life, as waves
how angrily they crash
music they make
and the spectacle
blue sea suddenly white foam
what have I come up against,
gone up against
what’s come over me, gone over me
leaves me energized and spent
I feel like sixpence, spent
on toffee, candy, gum
youth of today want money
to buy guns
I want a girl to write poems of
to fill my pen with bullets or bubbles
I have poems to fire off
who I hit, fire to fall into
I fall in love
muddy when I rise, my clothes as well as I
in need of washing
I want you to, do you want to
go by the river side to bathe bare
clothes off our backs upon the rocks,
will dry while we swim
thin as egg shells, the space between us,
your skin on my skin
wet all over with river water
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
10:34 p.m. 14.12.07
posted by Obie Quiet at 11:04 PM
2 Comments:
Interesting...the end has me a bit like HUH?? But I guess you can explain it to me.
I really like how you structured this poem. I love how well everything flows together without being forced which I am sometimes guilty of doing to in my writing.
"your sadness, your helplessness
which rendered me helpless
little as the package is
which you are, which contains you
potent as death, as life, as waves
I feel like sixpence, spent
on toffee, candy, gum
youth of today want money
to buy guns"
I AM CAPTURED BY THESE PARTS. And the latter is the perfect example of rhythm and flowing I was talking about. It all seems so very well thought out.
You are kind. Girl, you haven't a clue what your responses mean to me.
Are you kind to me and I'm mean to you or are we both being entirely honest?
Do we need a mutual admiration society? That wouldn't be helpful, would it?
I do appreciate the things you point out, pick out, your attention to specifics.
What a mind you have; what a gift you have. We'll get to the summit of Everest together eventually, with work and patience.
You shall have to see how the end of "Egg Shells" connects, fits. I am sure you can and will figure it out.
It would be more rewarding then or treat me to cappuccino, I'd treat you to an explanation of my poems as well as yours in great detail.
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