there comes a bend in that road,
where time halts for tea and a cigarette,
and probability rushes off into the narrowing distance,
blurring wishful untruth and cold circumstance,
that’s how long love, even real love,
can hold its bruised breath,
that’s how long you can chase the subjunctive,
that far and no further;
grandma taught me a game once,
played with five brown cowrie shells,
tossing one into the air,
and scooping up the rest,
before it dropped neatly,
a delighted ping in the middle of her
small age crusted hand,
you have to know how to throw it, she’d say,
too far and it will angle away,
too near and there won’t be time,
always that far and no further;
and the evening I made deals with a god
I did not know, I could not see,
just give me this full night, I bartered,
and you can hand me an empty forever,
he smiled with his faceless face
and sighed through his formless form,
what colour is that benevolence?
here, he said, dropping the sun
into the organza pleats of the sea,
tonight will be longer, stars will outshine the moon,
but even your love, even real love, can take you
only that far and no further;
but alone is not alone when it smells
of ash and reheated tea,
and the past clatters on mosaic tiles
like broken cowrie shells,
frightened stars peek from behind
emboldened clouds, pregnant with day,
stacks of what might have been
stare back at you with familiar eyes,
memory keeps the mind on a tight leash,
and love arcs back to your lips no matter
how high you throw it,
how will you forget to remember
you have to dream to size,
that far and no further.
A fantastic write! So beautiful!
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Thank you Bekkie.
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I like the tone of this poem, the words, the message. All has limits, even love. Yet, I continue to dream big. Beautiful poem.
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Awesome:
“there comes a bend in that road,
where time halts for tea and a cigarette”
“that’s how long love, even real love,
can hold its bruised breath”
“here, he said, dropping the sun
into the organza pleats of the sea”
“memory keeps the mind on a tight leash,
and love arcs back to your lips”
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Thanks Jenna 🙂
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The first two lines were perfectly constructed. And the stanza with the grandmother was tender.
I needed to savor the moments on your poem.
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Thank you Totomai. Much appreciated.
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It may well be so…. I almost don’t mind what you say, when you say it so enthrallingly. What a beautiful imagination you have!
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Thanks so much Rosemary 🙂
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too far and it will angle away,
too near and there won’t be time,
In life that’s how it had always been. There are choices yes, but still it will end up in not having a choice at all!
Hank
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We keep hoping anyway! Thanks so much Hank!
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A wonderful layered analogy, that unfolds brilliantly, with wisdom.
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Thanks so much Wendy.
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I can hear that cowrie shell slap down and you make me want to drink some tea.
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Beautifully executed. Accepting our own limitations is a lesson we must all learn. Many don’t and end up old and bitter. Far better to accept that the state of being human is perfectly imperfect. Your imagery is fluid, as are your words. Your love of craft shines throughout. Thank you for sharing it with all of us.
Elizabeth
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Thank you Elizabeth. Much appreciated.
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“that’s how long love, even real love,
can hold its bruised breath . . . ”
The cowrie shell game seems an unfair comparison with hope, love, dreams–and yet, it has grown on me, the randomness of the measure, the exactness of the skill. If there were a formula, I would use it carefully–and every now and then “forget to remember”–maybe while in a kiss! (How’s that for a subjunctive?)
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That is the perfect time to forget to remember! Thanks so much Susan.
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I love the idea of Time halting for tea and a cigarette. Such a tangible and lovely thought.
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Thanks CC🙂
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“Even real love can take you only that far and no further.” Wow, this poem is a wonder. I love your grandma teaching you to throw the cowrie shells, which turned out to be a rather big life lesson. I really love this poem.
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Thank you Sherry, Glad you liked it. Not autobiographical..but the game was played a lot by little girls back in the days of no toys and no devices!
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Brilliant write – one of your best, I think – rich with stunning lines and images throughout – Great!
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Thank you Scott. Much appreciated.
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A beautiful reflection.
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Thank you Ayala.
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I love how you weaved the memory of that game into a metaphor… fantastic.
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Thanks Bjorn. 🙂
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A lovely read, and the last stanza is filled with wonderful phrases!
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Thanks so much Beverly.
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I love this, just this far and no further….
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Thank you 🙂
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This is a perfect bittersweet expression of how beautiful, but all too brief, life’s joys can be.
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Exactly what I was hoping to convey.. thanks so much Rommy.
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What a wonderful reflection…all seemingly starting with a lovely memory!
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Thank you Mary.
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“that far and no further;” most of the time it’s best to know one’s limits yet this mind dreams of beyond 🙂
“dropping the sun / into the organza pleats of the sea, / tonight will be longer, stars will outshine the moon,” soooooo love this…
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Thank you Sumana…
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but alone is not alone when it smells
of ash and reheated tea,
and the past clatters on mosaic tiles
like broken cowrie shells,
frightened stars peek from behind
Beautifully deep!
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Thanks Sanaa 🙂
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This is fantastic, the limits we must set ourselves to claim sanity.
“grandma taught me a game once,
played with five brown cowrie shells,
tossing one into the air,
and scooping up the rest,
before it dropped neatly,”
I remember that game; as a child, we children (mostly girls) if i remember rightly, we played it with small clean pebbles
Have a lovely Sunday
much love…
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Oh yes, pebbles, shells… whatever was available.. those times are gone.all video games now and virtual reality!
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Sigh. Love the last stanza, with so many lines of verse, that I would love to have written, myself, Thotpurge, I can’t just single one, without feeling, I have slighted the others, by doing so.
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Thanks so much Therisa, that’s too kind.
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