“laid felt ye same sanome”
i wrote these words,
for years they were on a piece of paper
on the side of my refrigerator
i don’t know what it means
the words sound like something to me
the sounds are the poetry
it’s a chant, a mantra
more words are for my hurt
when i put it out there where it won’t go
i gave to someone who couldn’t give back
saw it coming
knew it all along
fell again
hurt again
should have ducked
that’s enough, for now, for then
in a while i may do it again
that’s what we do
always the ones we can’t have that we go for
the ones that want us, we don’t want
it’s in the past now
yet I recall
this foolish way of youth
felt ye same?
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
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3 comments:
Oh, yeah! A new language, perhaps? I love it. I'm trying to think of something witty to say to go with your phrase, but I can't. I'm all out of wit today...arrgh. But I will say I enjoyed the phrase and the poem very much.
Two lines in the poem that remind me of youth are how we want who we can't have and the ones who want us we don't want (sorry...I'm screwing up the lines here). Anyway, those are very good lines. The freaky or geeky guys in high school always fell head over heels in love with me. I guess it was because I was nice to them, and everyone else was cruel. Dang, I'm glad I'm not in high school!
Great work have laid ye same. Nah, I'm still not witty. Great work, Jack.
I identify with the feelings expressed in your poem. I wrote this poem over twenty years ago. It's a companion to two I've posted recently on my blog.
There are Kinds
Re-read my words
between the lines
and know I could
not stop, or spare
you damage, and/or
induced bewilderment
Blame me
for embroiled emotion
the extent and depth
of all the names
I did not know
and felt for you
Refuse
to loosely
use the word –
But love, self-defined,
is without restriction
or limiting factor
Flowers can be loved
Moments can be loved
and people are loved
more than they know
or trust or believe
Beyond
my selfishness
Regardless
of reciprocation
My need to give
is great
Your happiness
is my concern
I learn
once again
I cannot force
and offer now
All that I
securely can:
Subdued affection
(This love expressed
has its restraints)
Lies about reciprocation
(I need some word,
some pressured touch)
© 1977, 2008 King
It's not a great poem, but, together with the others, it captures what I was feeling at the time.
And now, I'm off to pick up my son from school...
Oops. I wrote the poem, There Are Kinds, in 1987, not 1977.
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