“Ever the hard unsunk ground, ever the eaters and drinkers, ever the upward and the downward sun..” — Walt Whitman ~ Song of Myself.
Ever the hour of mauve sunset slipping, softer, sensual
as hushed lips dreaming—
ever the last thought that consumes before my head hits the pillow,
it’s how everything that feels quieter, that feels safer with you around
that befuddles,
demons these demons of mine that come out to play,
believe there is no such thing as accidental meetings between those who
are destined to be.
I am forever contemplating the day, the pitter patter of rain outside my window
the kettle whistling,
the world at large is a whirlpool of chaos and din, as Delta variant continues
to gnaw at everything that dares to come in its way;
does another way even exist?
If we share the same response does that make us related?
Blue grass less than content to lie beneath the sky, it’s disheartening
when you dwell on it
and far too many cans of ice cold sprite on the kitchen counter.
Ever the conversation between night and man, bag of emotions clasped tight,
let it loose, who knows the chariot of musings that rides,
embellished with hues of a ruse—
who knows the shade of lust that overpowers,
who knows the words left unuttered,
who knows what the next moment holds, what the next moment holds?
Ever the dubiety of statements, ever the generosity of rain upon the blacktop
roadway,
ever the Israeli-Palestinian conflict,
a compromise, a solution, a means to an end seems to be nowhere in sight,
the dust recounts stories otherwise lost in translation,
who talks about how many cradles are ambushed every minute,
who refers to buildings burnt down, day after day an ashen wreck;
who gives a damn whether or not the blackened ground gains seed that sprouts,
cold hands of strangers that brush by in metro station after hours.
The dark woods beckon as noble knights,
ever the conversation between night and man, bag of emotions clasped tight,
let it loose, who knows the chariot of musings that rides,
in complicated hours of July, speak my name to the falling stars,
paint me, all my versions, past and incoming in sweltering purple and gold,
a compromise, a solution, a means to an end seems to be,
seems to be,
don’t settle for fear, these are just delusions in the long run,
you are not part of a rotation, you are not blind, not naïve;
who refers to buildings burnt down, day after day an ashen wreck,
who gives a damn whether or not the blackened ground gains seed that sprouts,
lips these lips blushing a ripe pink, gorgeous in their lament,
who knows the words left unuttered,
who knows what the next moment holds, what the next moment holds?
You might be none of the things you were expecting, but maybe everything
to the person who needs you;
ever the last thought that consumes before my head hits the pillow,
the last stanza builds a crescendo steadily moving towards a plausible outcome—
like our first glance, your eyes silencing every shred there is of unease.
River mud, bird song and unwritten chapters, time cannot crop
what has long been promised.
Photo credits: Judi Betts Watercolour Painting, Pinterest
Bjorn hosts at dVerse, ten year celebration week, and invites us to incorporate chant techniques of repeating into our poems. Come join us! 💝
Posted for Meeting The Bar: Chant Poetry @dVerse Poets Pub
So many thoughts running in your head from world chaos and din to questions about what lies ahead:
who knows the words left unuttered,
who knows what the next moment holds, what the next moment holds?
I specially like the emotional uptide of these lines:
let it loose, who knows the chariot of musings that rides,
in complicated hours of July, speak my name to the falling stars,
paint me, all my versions, past and incoming in sweltering purple and gold,
a compromise, a solution, a means to an end seems to be,
seems to be-
Thank you so much, Grace 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️
This feels so true about the time we are living in… the chaos of burning, pandemic, and passion… There are so many questions seeking answers… and how hard it may be to take those questions into your dreams… well used repetitions
Thank you so much, Bjorn 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
(and thank you for the glorious prompt)
The way you have built up the ideas in this poem seems like thunderclouds building: as Björn said, so appropriate to our times! But there is hope and the solace of love. Beautiful writing ❤️
Thank you so much, Ingrid 😀 I enjoyed writing and incorporating those repetitions .. 💄❤️
Sanaa- THIS: ‘You might be none of the things you were expecting, but maybe everything
to the person who needs you;
ever the last thought that consumes before my head hits the pillow,”
Such a profound statement. It’s so beautiful.
Thank you so much, Linda 😀 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
in the rhythm, as it builds, I can almost feel the thoughts swirling in your head. Your descriptions are vivid and creative beyond bounds.
Thank you so much, Darius 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️
This jumps out at me and can pull one to one’s senses: “You might be none of the things you were expecting, but maybe everything to the person who needs you;”
Beautiful and potent poem, Sanaa
Thank you so much, Lisa 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
This poem is absolutely stunning. I hardly know where to begin comment. Standing ovation from my corner of the world!
Awww gosh! Thank you so much, Beverly 😀 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
So many sounds, images, actions, frustrations, resignations, resolutions, determinations, vexations, but so full of satisfaction — beautiful and powerful Sanaa!
Thank you so much, Rob 😀 so good to see you 💄❤️
“who gives a damn whether or not the blackened ground gains seed that sprouts”
The whole poem is so strong and driving, but this line in particular stood out to me after my own musing on the destruction of nature. A powerful read, thank you.
Thank you so much, Lonely Recluse 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
“The dark woods beckon as noble knights,
ever the conversation between night and man, ”
Such indeed is the current ‘new normal’. We palance with death and hope in dim whispers
Thanks for dropping by to read my Sanaa
Much💜love
Thank you so much, Christine 😀 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
Much love back …
You definitely nailed the prompt Sanaa! This was an amazing chant of what is and what might be. The words that lingered with me the most were:
“don’t settle for fear, these are just delusions in the long run,
you are not part of a rotation, you are not blind, not naïve;
who refers to buildings burnt down, day after day an ashen wreck,
who gives a damn whether or not the blackened ground gains seed that sprouts,
lips these lips blushing a ripe pink, gorgeous in their lament,
who knows the words left unuttered,
who knows what the next moment holds, what the next moment holds?”
I wanted to tell you not to worry your sweet head about so many things. An amazing piece ☺️💕🌺
Thank you so much, Christine 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️
You words, Sanaa, damn. They build and seethe and sooth. So much touching on the madness of what was, is, could be of our times. And yet the utter poignant intimacy of “You might be none of the things you were expecting, but maybe everything
to the person who needs you;” is EVERYTHING. No time cannot crop tis.
Awwwww gosh! Thank you so much, Raivenne 😀 I am so pleased the poem spoke to you the way it did 💄❤️ You made my day!
“the world at large is a whirlpool of chaos and din.” Well said, contrasts well with:
“don’t settle for fear, these are just delusions in the long run,” where there seems
to be a turn in the tone of the poem at that point.
Thank you so much, Tzvi 🙂 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
You captured so concretely the questions and the emotions wrapped in the uncertainties we are breathing in at the moment. I felt the fear and the passion and everything in between.
Thank you so much, Rosemarie 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️
A sad bell, a ticking clock – your repetition is so apt for nighttime thoughts, so apt for the disturbing musings. And your musings are musical, rhythmic, sweet and soft as breathing, yet fearful as nightmares at times. The imagery is wonderful. A fabulous poem!
Thank you so much, a bigfatcan 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
Dear Sanaa,
So many thoughts, emotions here in your chant … “don’t settle” for me is the most meaningful and applies to myriad of life’s moments.
Thank you so much, Helen 😀 so good to see you 💄❤️
“Ever the conversation between night and man”–such a potent rendition of a sleepless mind.
Thank you so much, Kerfe 😀 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
this poem is filled with anxiety and fear, and rightly so i guess, it’s been a really tough couple of years, and i know that i’m feeling it. but”don’t settle for fear, these are just delusions in the long run,” i think you nailed it right there. we do all of this evil to ourselves, out of fear, but that’s perfectly human i guess, to error is human, but let’s not overdo it. love the hopefulness of your ending, very well written
Thank you so much, Philip 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
love this jumble of raging emotions and insight into our current situation, you last lines spoke deeply!
Thank you so much, Kate 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️