Thursday, September 18, 2008

Blood



The Writers Almanac
by Glen Creason
Selected Poems) --THURSDAY, 8 February 2009Listen (RealAudio) How to listen


Poem: “Blood”

Bloody, bawling, bundle of anxious questions
I held her up, our eyes locked in love
Where would we go from there?
Her jagged breaths were my own
Sleep never seemed to matter then
We held each other up together
Constant as the northern star
This glowing stellar child in my heart
I held her up to see the monkeys in the zoo
Upwards she made me stand in lines
Thick paper mortarboards and ballet tears
She held up to the lessons
Sitting up proud in stale studios
I’m the bedtime pony! I said
Waiting for her teenage exhale
Up she grew, past my concerns
I held her up to scrutiny
She held me up in mutiny
I hate you she screamed
I hope you die, the words cut
You’re stuck with me I said
Those breathes of bravado, masking dread
I can’t, I won’t leave that upward look
Years crawled past too quickly
I held her up without feeling
The ache she learned from me
The old man, bending toward earth
Broken hearted now, once more
Thinking my road was again hopeless
cul de sac dead end
The once little one held me up
Like once we craned upward, at monkeys
Forgetting to do anything but
Feel how wonderful the air
Felt up there.
Lifted up again

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