poem: what I write

My mouth says good morning.

My fingers type good morning.

My hands write good morning.

 

and what I mean by good morning

could not be interred in a hundred years' writing

by all the best novelists in Europe and North America.

 

you might as well try to fit a quasar inside of a light pen.

 

When I say good morning, I mean that this day

I awoke smiling because your feet walk in my world

I placed my hand upon my heart and imagined it, yours.

 

I drew breath and thought I tasted you in my air

I ran my hands down my sides using your fingertips

I touched between my thighs and was warmed by your heat.

 

I remembered dreaming pink roses and wanted to paint them

in oils, in dewy soft understated brilliance, for you.

 

As with so many other things I could find to tell you, if I tried.

How inevitable annihilation is less scary if some part of you,

would remember me; how golden light and morning mist make me want

to be lost in a forest primeval, with you.

 

How sometimes I am so certain you are there, I feel your weight

shift off the mattress when I return to this world. And how

none of this is anything I could ever actually say to you.

 

So instead, I simply write, with a fond mental caress:

good morning, my friend.

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

this poem was translated into Spanish:

http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/zorra_encantada/1190188/

Reviews

[Commanda Panda]

This was intimate on so many levels. It makes the reader feel wanted and want you at the same time. Reading your words created a welcoming vision of someone dear to me inviting me in warmly on so many levels; mentally, emotionally, physically, sexually, all in a pure and genuine way.

[Marie Anzalone]

Thank yuo, Panda. If you got that form this poem, then I would say that you definitely intepreted it correctly... especially that part about all the levels. Surprise there- not many talk openly about the necessity of all four. Or the necessity of deciding which one, or combination thereof, you want to have fulfilled at any given point, moment, or act of love. Because it changes like the tides.

[Marie Anzalone]

*from

[Commanda Panda]

I only speak this way to those who can handle intelligent conversation.

[Marie Anzalone]

likewise

[Zahra]

Really interesting, well written piece. Thanks for sharing.

[Marie Anzalone]

Voice, thank you for stopping by today and taking the time to leave some verbal footprints on my page. Your words aremuch appreciated. I am glad you found this interesting and well-written. I hope you have a wonderful rest of your day!

[s y e]

Ookay so I don't know Spanish, only the basics and a bit but I had to read it in Spanish and it was absolutely divine! This was such a gorgeous write, Marie. I thoroughly enjoyed it. The wording was amazing and the imagery was spectacular!

~ Noodle.

[Marie Anzalone]

Thanks, Noodle. I find that after speaking and thinking in Spanish for so long, I actually fall into thinking my love poems through in Spanish first, then translating. Every other topic I do in English first. I think maybe I find Spanish to be a more liberating language for love?

I grealty appreciate the time you took to read and review today. I am exhausted, and will be slepeing soon. But I have some work bookmarked for tomorrow am and this weekend.

[s y e]

I think it's lovely! I used to get Spanish in school and passed with all A's. I love ghe language!

My pleasure!

[john alan willox]

it takes a lot of talent to describe love without it being silly, trite, overly-romantic and gooey.
You have done a marvelous job of avoiding all of that and making me feel extremely jealous for his lucky warm hands. Nice work.

[Marie Anzalone]

Thank you, John. I agree that the love poem is a very hard thing to get right. I always found that sticking to what was actually going on in my own head rather than chasing metaphors across the sky worked a little better for me. Even from a distance, love has the power to make you glad you woke up again this morning.

[OBWhiteHawk]

This is really lovely, and seemed so personal. I feel as if I just glimpsed into your head and heart when you were not looking and I sort of feel guilty and daring all at once.

[Marie Anzalone]

Thanks, OB. Most of my writing is highly personal and autobiographical in nature. My heroes in the author world are able to transcend boundaries with their art. I am trying to learn how to see into other realms, like they do. it is fun, but always a risk to put oneself out there like that. I appreciate your honesty and your consideration. You have a very insightful, kind spirit.

[Lyr J. Thirsk]

I think you have a certain ability, that puts the simplest, momentary emotions into words that make sesne across the spectrum of people. That kind of humanity is rare. Good job. I like this....


When I say good morning, I mean that this day
I awoke smiling because your feet walk in my world
I placed my hand upon my heart and imagined it, yours.

I drew breath and thought I tasted you in my air
I ran my hands down my sides using your fingertips
I touched between my thighs and was warmed by your heat.

I remembered dreaming pink roses and wanted to paint them
in oils, in dewy soft understated brilliance, for you.

[Marie Anzalone]

Thank you, Lyr, for the kind review. I do actually try to capture and describe simple moments in my work- and I try to make what I write, something that others can relate to. It makes me feel very good that you noticed. I am glad you liked this one.

[DCT ponderings]

Marie- This is one of the most beautifully written love letters I have ever read. Incredible.

[Marie Anzalone]

Thank you, DCT. I meant it to be pensive and beautiful, and I am glad it came across that way. I appreciate the thoughtful review.

[DCT ponderings]

It did indeed.

[kmartell]

recently I have gone out and bought a telescope. I have tried to touch something out there in the stars, a poem can throw us into the stars, the written word printed that way. the beyond. and i am interested in the earth, old as the universe itself, layers of rock, a cliff must be interpreted and SEEN for what it is. the same for stars OUT THERE past the sun. not just some stars in a theater sign....

the same exits in us, for that is where IT comes from, and so finally to get to your poem. saying the falling and falling we do is troubleing at times, but because we cannot SAY it, we try and try anyway... and here i haven't gotten close.

[Marie Anzalone]

I completely understand what you are saying, k. Not long ago I actually wrote a poem about us being made of stardust. All creation part of the universe- with love being just an order we try to ascribe to chaos in order to understand it, perhaps? We are silly creatures always trying to understand our world anyway.

[Peter H]

excellent the troupe of the custom " good morning" i love how you articulated this into a fine love poem :)

[Marie Anzalone]

Thank you, Peter, and I am so glad that you enjoyed the poem! Here it is custom to greet everyone on the street with, "good morning." Very different from the US.

[Ken Simm.]

You have written to your muse here as well as your lover far away. You have written to the other side of yourself. And understood it and their subtle thoughts about you.

[Marie Anzalone]

in the softness of the 'tween times, sometimes, a difference between the 3 can hard to discern. I think yuo know exactly what I am talking about, don't you?