Posts Tagged ‘perception’

too small to be a door

too small to be a door
the window was weeds because that’s what you saw.  the window was a ship counting souls.
the window sent them on their way, north or south, obvious enough.
although some walked on into the east.  west being reserved for falling gulls.  the window each day kept some of the sun for itself.  of the moon, it gave everything.
the window is a plate for spiders who are spent.  the window keeps no book of dates, yet soup is hot, poured into a bowl just when it’s due, ready to be sipped.  here, rest your feet.  windows are the last pocket you’ll ever need.
windows are the space between walls.  try calling them by names of your ancestors.  dead is not exactly what you think it means.
windows come home Sunday eves.

neil reid © september 2013

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defining real

defining real

was it always me or never me?  meaning what
I see through windowed eyes.

(t e e t e r)
I remember seeing-sighted one day, and it looked
to be as real as a cardboard puppet stage.  all of it.
like paint on the inside lens of my made-up eye.

(t o t t e r)
then again when each single breath inhaled
bloomed radiant trees and sky and sun right-handed
right inside of me.  how blindly insensitive I realized
not to have noticed before!

somedays don’t you just wish someone would
read their story to you?  every page out loud.

does mass absorb meaning same same as it does
light?  making shadows in its’ shallow wake.

so maybe meaning changes like changing clothes
like dawn and dusk like spaces between falling rain.
maybe it is knowable and unknowable both.

maybe these words too.  changing.
maybe even me.

can poem aspire to be just as Pinocchio did,
to be a real live boy?


neil reid © september 2011

Balance is a lop-sided thing. Have you noticed that? And of this poem, I mean light-hearted, not like insincere, but not serious (even if I mean it all for real)! Impressions are not spurious, yet neither are they balanced in a two plus two sort of way, so simple math needs step aside.

What’s that mean? Well, some parts of what’s written here, seemed random, hardly even coincident with the lines I formally thought to write. But then I thought, why am I editing these, like I knew better somehow? So given rein, then I could notice the relationships, and maybe rain is purposeful, every single drop of it – if we only pay attention, or even just allow.

(So this is also chapter in my odd quest about “breaking rules”, yet seems the rules to challenge are more those of that internal editor than much else.)

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