The day begins in a pose of defence
ducking and weaving,
searching for a bench.
It fills my bones with the itchiness
of a guarded arm
cupping the face in an angular embrace.
The bench can be found
with a hot butter knife
to slice through the bones
and unhinge the heaviness of angles.
And so I exchange
thought for thought,
energy for energy.
The words, sentences, pages,
are the hot butter knife
warm yet steely,
fluid but solid.
If I touch it,
my fingers will be scorched
but if I let it move,
it will melt away the day.
Please don't tell me a poem is a luxury,
because then I'll know
you've never been bone-weary,
waiting for the slicing
and the bench.
* * *
I felt like posting a poem today, but instead of transcribing someone else's poem, I spontaneously wrote one now. You probably deserve to read a better poem than this one though, so here's to a restful weekend of doing precisely that (and sleeping in).
Image source: The Bed (Le lit), 1893, by Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec.
19 comments:
I loved this poem. Really. Today I am not feeling very well, but it sort of warmed me up my bones a little bit...(don't know if I can say so in english):)
Thank you Mariella, I definitely like the idea of warming bones :)
"The day begins in a pose of defence..."
great opening line.
i sure have been bone-weary.
uhhmm a beautiful poem to start my day :) I love when days start this way ! Thanks Hila and have a very soothing weekend !
Absolutely lovely!
Thanks for posting this, Hila. I particularly liked the part where you write of exchanging thought for thought, and the words and sentences and pages as the hot butter knife. The Toulouse-Lautrec adds to it all, as only bed and Henri can.
Here's to a lie in and dreams.
Such a wonderful poem - every line is so full of beautiful imagery. It feels so delicate - I fear that if I looked at some lines for too long, they might dissolve. Which is a feeling very well conveyed in this stanza: If I touch it,
my fingers will be scorched
but if I let it move,
it will melt away the day.
And the last stanza - oh, it is so wonderful. I think if anyone criticized my liking poetry in the future, I might recite exactly those lines:
Please don't tell me a poem is a luxury,
because then I'll know
you've never been bone-weary,
waiting for the slicing
and the bench.
There are so many people who have never been bone-weary, I fear ...
Sometimes it's just a poem type of day - thanks for sharing your creative energy with us!
I love this painting, it's so cute
I agree...great opening line. I knew exactly what you meant. This is really amazing!
Beautiful Hila...I love it...and the Toulouse Lautrec
This is beautiful poetry. Sometimes, the best pieces of writing come spontaneously. (The artwork is stunning, too.)
That was such a beautiful, evocative poem. Thank you for sharing it with us :)
Monica: Haven't we all, sigh.
etre-soi: you too Sofia, you deserve it!
Amelia: Thank you!
Gracia: Thank you my dear, I had a good lie-in today.
cloudsandcrystals: why, thank you!
rooth: I hope I'm not inflicting my creative attempts at you all :)
Nastya: It is a beautiful painting.
Stephanie: Yes, so many days start out this way.
Pinelopi: Thank you.
B: It sure beats sitting around and waiting for an idea to come :)
Sarah Allegra: I'm so glad you enjoyed it.
For a moment I thought this was the work of Anne Sexton. Bone weary, benches and butter knives. I can only say wow.
Wow that's brilliant. I can't believe you just spontaneously wrote that - it would take me ages to write a decent poem!
Tracy: Poor Anne Sexton, she doesn't deserve to have her work compared with mine! :) I think I can safely say, she's a waaaay better writer than me. But thank you, this is a kind comment.
Lois: Thanks! It's not that good actually, and I'm not just saying that in a false, 'please give me compliments' mode. I do think though the more I share my writing, the better it will become.
I love the imagery of the hot butter knife. Thank you for sharing.
I am a big Toulouse Lautrec fan so enjoyed the accompanying image too!
hungryandfrozen: thank you!
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