On my dark tongue, on my honeycomb bones
my brittle hair and these eyes the clouds pass by
un-named. On your nervous stutter, on your runner's legs
your scarred arm and the contraband you can't
declare. On the poem I put on replay,
my lost bankbooks, my first husband's advice.
On your cellared wine, your forms
in triplicate, your ex-girlfriend's intervention order.
A word like salt or troth
a word that can't add up
child support payments.
Like blood on the tongue.
On my dark honeycomb
my brittle and the clouds that pass by.
On your nervous running
your scars and undeclared contraband.
On our thirst, on our hunger.
Catherine Bateson, Marriage for Beginners, John Leonard Press, 2009.
I have to stop posting my own poems - do forgive me, gentle reader. I haven't been in touch with any poets, am snowed under with the beginning of the teaching year and I've been trying to write every day and learn French. Not to mention the felting.
To cheer everyone up - here's a fun writing exercise, especially for Valentine's Day:
Write a Valentine's message to yourself. Make it real. Love yourself and pour that love into a poem or prose poem or song lyric.
Oh, and before you do that, skip over to the Tuesday Poem blog and read some more Tuesday poems.