Be Me

for just an hour,
while twilight titillates the wolves
and dusk drops the last of her clothes
to bare her blackened soul,
for just an hour,
step inside my mind,
and tell me what you see,
why I am what I am,
why I cannot be me;

does a hot wind blow
over desert dunes,
that my thoughts come to me
coarse, gravelly,
peppered with bitter sand,
is there a red eyed moon,
floating in the embossed darkness,
one that sighs quietly,
between beats of the goatskin drum;

are the days arranged like books,
from ceiling to floor,
with unlit spaces where
they were never returned,
ripped pages
with your name on them,
in bundles, gathering dust
by the lonely archways;

for just an hour,
wander through the back roads,
where I cannot go,
you know, I once sneaked out
through a green-tongued tunnel,
through time screaming
in timeless purgatory,
to a lake in the middle of a willow glade,
the colour of a sky in prayer,
the taste of ice in sin;

go and bathe in those waters,
slip your hand over its open lips,
the waters that healed my hope,
tell me in an hour,
as dusk pirouettes to dawn,
as the doors shut out the khamsin,
and rustling pages begin to
erase the calligraphed pain,
word by word by word,

tell me what I cannot know,
tell me what it does not show,
tell me are the tears wet,
tell me what I should feel,
tell me is it all real?

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37 thoughts on “Be Me

  1. There is so much power packed into the soul of this poem. The wild feel in the goat-skinned drums beats through out and I adore the many names of wind, this one Egyptian πŸ™‚ Thank you for sharing this outstanding work of art!

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  2. These lines are my fav:

    the colour of a sky in prayer,
    the taste of ice in sin;

    go and bathe in those waters,
    slip your hand over its open lips,

    An amazing write Thotpurge ~

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Now I want to know what’s behind the questions… They run so deeply and are asked with so much passion, that I want to meed the speaker and subject, I want to know what brought them together, if the trust is mutual… or if the request is a challenge.

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  4. First of all I love to follow you through a night of torment, I feel this is a poem written as a pledge to the tormentor. Secondly your unique choice of metaphors for emotions, with a touch of surreality, always touch me. The use of questions make it so very strong.

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  5. There is real power in this poem of yearnings that are expressed so sensually – reminiscent to me of Grace’s work – but will your own voice and, as Bjorn says, with your own take on structures and metaphors. To me, you have real talent and strong poetic sensibility too… Your work has genuine reach too – which always makes it a pleasure to read

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    1. Inttiguing….and mesmerising. I liked BjΓΆrn’comments..I too was haunted by the questions. The wolves, goatskin beat of the drums and dramatic scenery gave that thrilling ethnic touch, with very brief flirtations with dark sensuality.
      Such a full, rich, dense almost menacing piece, yet one, that treading carefully, was a read with real flow. I know I will read this dramatic piece again, and want to.

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  6. Another beautiful write! This makes me wonder about the story of the one making the request…as well as the story of the one to whom the request is being given!

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  7. Lyrical and sensual elements to this poem, to which I can see people are attracted, but also some disquieting nuances, such as the sneaking out, the taste of ice in sin (such a contrast, we usually imagine sin as something hot and burning), tell me what I should think…

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  8. This is SO good! The way you wove nature into retrospective thoughts was breathtaking. I am in awe not only in the exquisite writing but of the whole concept of taking the “backroads” into another’s mind to discover what they cannot. Oh my gosh, I love this!

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  9. Hard hitting lines. The dark is your friend and then not. Had to look up khamseen though. Also means fifty in Arabic. That much I knew when ordering a chicken sandwich in Amman, and when they called out my number, khamsa khamseen (fifty five), my familiarity with the sound of khamseen prevented me from walking out hungry and confused πŸ™‚

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      1. Makes sense. One of the shawarma places in Amman was highlighted in an NYT article many years ago. I chased it on my next visit. Extremely ordinary shawarma. Conclusion: NYT is not to be trusted on shawarma and by extension the middle east.

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