Friday, October 22, 2010

In Careful Hands
for D.B.A.

apologizing, or trying to
for having, the day before, hung the phone up

offended and annoyed
that I was passionately conveying something
and she was not listening
was instead otherwise occupied
multitasking, her usual explanation

forgiving me or understanding,
the following day, she called back

tried to convey how I thought, how I feared
I had lost her, how I felt I had thrown her away
and how, almost immediately, I'd begun to regret it
though I'd hung up over what I'd hung up

upon reflecting, upon what else transpired
during that same call

I recalled her singing, awfully and delightfully
“Singing in the Rain” to entertain herself and me

recalled her laughter, her giggling delightfully
recalled when I did have her attention fully
when we were attached like twins
like we sometimes are, at times can be

I had, without differentiating,
thrown away the good with the bad
the bitter with the sweet
is what I was attempting to convey
along with apologies for ringing off
like I did, when I did, the day before

you know there always will be something,
Obi, she said
that part that is utterly delicious
part that is a dish of delight

suggesting that always
when we connected, in what we experienced
there is, was and always will be

that precious part, some precious part
she and I would wish to cherish
and not overturn, not spill or dispose of

what wisdom, I thought, and what confidence
in herself and in us, in what we are capable
of making, come what may
or in spite of whatever arose or arises

there would be always that bit, those drops
the divine itself provided, not to be treated
or taken lightly but to be sipped or savored
or preserved in a jar with a lid, in careful hands

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2010
2:36 a.m. 22.10.10


Anonymous d.a. said...

And may that jar never be opened or tampered with. the jar of sweetness.

Friday, October 22, 2010 1:33:00 PM  
Blogger Obie Quiet said...

You mean I must never dip my finger in honey, Dee? I find your response to be a poem in itself. Amazed and excited was my initial reaction to it - then the mathematical examination - when examined for the truth it conveys and contains and then to wonder what you might mean and what the words used mean and I am left with questions going in divergent directions. I even wonder if what you are meaning is against the desires contained in so many of my dba poems? I can conclude what warrants a very lengthy essay in deed quickly, by asking, is the suggestion in your comment, hands off actual sweetness, like purchasing pickles in the food store or mustard or asparagus or honey and just never opening them or is the sweetness referred to, metaphysical sweetness in a metaphysical jar? Is it something akin to Hemingway's core which it was his responsibility to maintain unscratched? That you see symbolizes something metaphysical. That I sense is what you are meaning also. How though do we make the language used mean that and not that I must never open your mouth or legs or that you must not open your mouth or legs either in this or in our relationship - or is that exactly what you are meaning? If you do it would be contrary to the ways in which sweetness between us is derived and conveyed at present because we taste what is sweet and see even now by or when we open our mouths and ourselves to and for each other, when you write and when I write, when you sing or I do and when we converse or when I open your e-mailed messages or when you open mine. We do open jars all the time and some we break or we break some sometimes and sometimes deliberately. Is it that jar of jars though to which you refer - like that- or the IDEAL chair in which no one must sit or can sit or no one other than the Almighty himself? Is your jar of sweetness what is or what has to represent, DBA, the heart or the very core of our oh so very precious relationship?

Friday, October 22, 2010 4:01:00 PM  

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