Write a poem about what you want.
see with the eyes of a dog.
take that walk across the street.
broken doubts can wait by the curb.
I want a boat and tree, escaping town.
I want to fall under the wheels of your fuzzy face.
I want to scratch eager chins.
my willing belly awaits rolling affection.
I want every dog and cat on the street,
running water under the road.
I want you to lick my face.
no, I don’t mean dogs and cats.
I mean raining you.
I mean without a hat.
I mean winter skies exposed.
I mean every touch, every drop.
I mean everything counts.
some waves look like birds like clouds.
unabridged beneath the pier.
notice how our language leans.
meaning with all your words.
meaning with all your blood.
meaning with all your breath.
graze the field full of moons.
fill the bowl, bring your spoon.
the delight of homeless dreams.
meaning nothing much.
meaning every glance.
each brow the roof of truth.
I want your poems.
tuck them inside pillow seams,
where gulls proceed a storm.
I want wet kisses.
I want your smile close.
fly where eyes go underneath.
I want the sky like breath becomes.
that’s not a lot to ask.
see with the eyes of god.
neil reid © december 2010
Want? So easy to think, less so to say. Another poem that feels somewhat drafty, this one. Not trying to answer any great scheme. Merely one moment that came into view and grew from there. I’ve got boxes of stuff; I’m not impressed. One simple face more fills my sky. But how do “we” relate? What lines emboldened by language keep some distance close? (Ha! Even this comment could be better writ! It’s been a too long stretched out week.)
Of poetic form, I wanted to keep a simple map. Thanks Elizabeth for a poem of yours that sent me this way, although this is still more verbose as yet. Smaller can be bigger too.