This Poem is a Secret

this poem is a secret,
that will splinter into a thousand untruths,
as it leaves your open lips,
bloodied and screaming,
the salt acrid around your tongue
like a guilty sea;

this poem is a secret,
that will scatter into a hidden light,
as you read its thoughts,
new words falling in cursive shadows,
convulsing strangely
upon its crumpled sheets;

why are we here.
why are we still here.

this poem is the secret
chanted into an ignorant ear,
smelling of the heaving desert air,
of the sigh of a lone date palm,
of the shifting knife-edged dunes,
a drop of vermilion blood
whirling for a moment
in a riptide of infinitude;

this poem is the secret
that fell from frozen fingers,
with the silence of the clouds after the rain,
with the absence of the sky in the haze,
a mirage folded along an unseen crease,
the inevitable cause,
the unresolved effect;

here.
still here.

 

For Poets United where the midweek prompt is “Secrecy”
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41 thoughts on “This Poem is a Secret

  1. Very glad that she is still here.. telling a secret to an ignorant ear is perhaps worse than not telling it at all..also love the play with the sheets of paper and picturing her tangled and sore in bedsheets..this poem is brilliant 😉

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  2. Such powerful opening lines! Especially love “with the silence of the clouds after the rain, with the absence of the sky in the haze..” Beautifully penned (as always) 🙂

    Lots of love,
    Sanaa

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  3. This. This is the alchemy. My heart aches. It is my new favorite of yours. Oh my! These images and more: “cursive shadows” the smell of “heaving desert air” “sigh of a lone date palm” “riptide of infinitude.” And the entire finale. Yes. Still.

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  4. I agree with Jae – this poem is brilliant. You have woven something so beautiful. To me the questions are sometimes as important as the answers and here you’ve addressed a major question. “Why are we here?” I think you are here, to write poetry like this. And to help the rest of us try to discern.

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  5. I thought I left a lengthy comment, but cannot find it. This is my new favorite of yours. I spoke of “cursive shadows” and the smell of “heaving desert air” and “the riptide of infinitude” among other unique images that rock the motif. How the secret is found and lost again. Still.

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    1. Sorry Susan, because I have comment moderation on, comments don’t appear immediately. Plus with the time difference, am only looking at the comments now (7AM here) Thank you so much for your kind words.

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  6. We each have our secrets, some of them hidden from ourselves, as we ignore them and lie to ourselves. What tangled webs we weave when we start lying to others to conceal these secrets… Nicely penned.

    Liked by 1 person

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