Pup's pup
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By london_calling79
- 2009 reads
Your lake-stone rippled eyes implore the world of me,
would wash away that blood red
self destruct circle that almost cost me all.
Your fine motor finger scratches
pull me back from the edges
of your elemental bawl.
But nothing in this world scares me as much as letting you explore it,
poised precariously on that razor tightrope
swaying miles above reason.
The tugs on my heart strings grow the further you wander,
a sumptious sting I know will grow with you
my face-planting little soldier.
But when it goes south. When it gets bad.
When you can't understand
that we don't know what to do
and your throat is raw from fumbling at the vowels
- we just hold you -
keep you warm in our safe, amniotic womb.
I promise you nothing my son. I wish you nothing.
I let each day take its lake-stone rippled course;
free from regrets and oaths and enjoy the time
I don't feel I deserve
but will work to make you understand
that you do.
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Comments
Beautifully written. So
Beautifully written. So emotive and expressive - we just hold you- that just makes me want to grab my son and give him a big hug!
Those last three lines in particular got me :)
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I can't comment on which is
I can't comment on which is clearer, but I understood this better after reading the first (got a bit distracted as the picture above is on a different poem again, not version 1 of this!), but I am always slow getting clarity in my mind over this kind of writing. Some bits I'm still not quite clear about, (what is face-planting referring to?) but the concept of love watching and trying to allow independece is vividly portrayed, and I especially liked, 'your throat is raw from fumbling at the vowels' Rhiannon
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Oh, thanks! Now that is just
Oh, thanks! Now that is just where I get slow - I haven't heard the term face-planting like that, but it's such a sensible phrase in that context, - once someone explains, I can't think why I hadn't thought of it. Reminds me of a rather severe, unpopular English teacher I had when quite young, but how she could make poems clear in an amazing way! Rhiannon
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It's a beautiful piece.
It's a beautiful piece. Agree that the last three lines go straight to the heart. Also the bit about the tugs on heart strings. My son's still face-planting at the age of 27. Usually in the early hours of the morning.
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