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land of plenty

Posted on Mar 22nd, 2008 by mary : untitled mary
it is a lonely place
to have so much to give
and no one to partake
but the Mama
and she smiles nonetheless
and keeps pouring
even when we all go deaf
dumb and blind
and our hearts crumble to dust
and dessicate in the hot desert wind
still she pours forth
through her gullies and washes and canyons and arroyos
and chasms and gorges and arterial sluices
of her beat beat beating heart
and i thought i would do that too
pour forth forever into the aquifer
with none to hear my waters flow red
to the beat beat beat of my own heart dripping
the blood of this passing song
like a lone coyote howl
in the wilderness
Access_public Access: Public 4 Comments Print views (144)  
Tagged with: prose, poetry
Virginia : Kite Flyer
11 days later
Virginia said

I hear you.
I hear the coyote howl in the wilderness.
You pour forth always, singing
in the wilderness
of blood and death and never being home.
The world is wide and contains all:
the immemorial desert, the wind,
the deep blue water,
the beating hearts,
the dust of those long dead.
We live but now.
It is enough.
I hear you.
And this also is love.

mary : untitled
28 days later
mary said

yes
from fragile to febrile
connections
so weak
so strong
so nothing and everything

and the wind still blows across the dunes
and the meadowlark warbles its tiny song
between the furrows of the plow

Merry Mary : Quite Contrary
6 months later
Merry Mary said

mary, mary, i just discovered that you are a poet, and this poem has me in tears…so moving, so true, thank you!

mary : untitled
6 months later
mary said

and thank you for your comment
and for your own heart
so obviously alive and beating!

poetry is often just a nice way
to bleed on the page….

;-)

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