Pages

Tuesday, May 17, 2016

THE UNBEARABLE SLIGHTNESS OF BEING



Another dawn fulfills its pledge to the calendar.
Another day finds me searching for my name.
Angst must be kept at bay with constant distraction.

I wander through the crowd in a Mylar suit.

(Gotta short between the ears, I hear somebody say.)

Funny clowns--buncha balloons...

baby let's go and WHOOSH--it's bye bye.
The first in a long string of lessons.
(A child cries in the jungle under the Jurassic sun--
some things never change).

Girls in poodle skirts on porch swings,

Parchesi in the parlor, and Father Knows Best.
Secretly,we replaced this couple's 
coffee with Sanka brand.
(Secretly, she wants to be defiled in the basement.)
TASTES LIKE SHIT! she exclaims.
That one doesn't make it on the air.

Two come-hither eyes from across the room.

Carly singing:I'll never learn to be
just me first by myself.

Cruising through Memphis at midnight.

(Do I really feel the way I feel?)
She is nearly in my lap.
I said you can work the gearshift--
she made her own interpretation.

Packed my bags and headed west

(I've left a few things out)
west of somewhere
east of someplace else--
a matter of perspective.

No one knows where they really are.


And when I turn to look back, the memory of

You, and You,and You turns to salt.

And were it not for gravity
I'd have floated clean away by now--
avoiding all the fuss--like a pink balloon
under the August moon, or
Uncle Albert dodging the pigeons
before their nightly bowel movement.

Past the screaming bullets.

Past the starving children.
Past the glaciers cascading into the sea.

Somewhere there's a reason--

maybe I can see it from up here. 

29 comments:

  1. Sometimes we only know the road, and not the destination... and that's fine. Love that play on Milan Kundera in the title.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. And we've been on that road for so very very long.

      Delete
  2. And were it not for gravity
    I'd have floated clean away by now--
    avoiding all the fuss...

    I can relate to this, never having felt very at home in a crowd.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks, Kerry. This is why I think I'd do well on the moon...less gravity!

      Delete
  3. I was already grinning at the title! I LOVE the poodle skirt stanza!!!! Then I hit the glaciers and starving children, the looking back that turns to salt, and - this is what life is, my friend, that you have captured to perfection as you always do - the goofiness, the glory and the god-dammed pain, all mixed together. As only you can write it. Wow.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Your poem made me laugh, made me uncomfortable, made me nod with the truth of it. Made me think of the recent "no more" prompt over at toads -- as you travel and things and people pass and fall away. Thanks for sharing.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank YOU for being there, Stacie.

      Delete
  5. luv your candid sharing of a day, with its possibilities yet, not without it disappointments and yearnings

    well penned

    Im happy you dropped in to read my Tuesday share

    much love...

    ReplyDelete
  6. Your poem is like watching a movie(an interesting one )enhanced by that wry matter of fact tone.There was a reason Lot's wife was told not to look back...no good comes of it.
    There is a reason for all of it but you have to meditate in a cave for about 30 years like the ancient mystics and saints to work it out ... you are allowed to know the answer for a split second and then you die.Maybe best to just keep on keeping on with Uncle Albert and the pigeons:)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You are so right on. This gives a new twist to the term "pigeon drop." Some of them were nice about it though, saying, "We're so sorry, Uncle Albert.' (Walter Pigeon has yet to weigh in on it.)

      Delete
  7. Gosh I love this, Timo. No one does know, really. The references here are exactly right. And your title! Kundera = special favorite. xo

    ReplyDelete
  8. the memory of
    You, and You,and You turns to salt.

    This is beautifully haunting..!!

    ReplyDelete
  9. I really like this poem. You took us on a journey through this thing called life. Beautifully written.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I appreciate that, Arcadia. Thanks for visiting!

      Delete
  10. I like the way this poem is crafted, so many textures and the last two lines totally resonate...

    ReplyDelete
  11. New to your work, but not for long. A great read, well written! I'll be back!

    ReplyDelete
  12. Replies
    1. Thanks, good to see you, Roslyn.

      Delete
  13. Big ambitious write here - I both admired and enjoyed the risks taken here... Excellent...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. That's gratifying to hear! Muchas gracias!

      Delete
  14. Also new to your work. Poodle stanza made me smile (don't anyone dare switch my coffee with Sanka!) but by the end, shaking my head. Such a change in feelings.
    Hope you'll stop by dVerse again -- it's a grand place with lots of vitality --
    in my reuvenatement (never say retirement) period, glad to come upon your piece here.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You know how to make a guy feel at home, Lillian. I'll take a chance on that coffee.

      Delete