It is a day busy with sunlight, boasting a bowl
of blue sky. I welcome you into a realm
of white gold walls and windows...
This might be the end of the world.
There is certainly a sense of climax,
of a distance travelled. And of destiny too -
as if our paths have been predicted
by a blind prophet - and the choices
we have made at every signpost were not our own.
Yes, this is probably the end of the world.
As I lead you to the bed, my whole life
flashes before my eyes, and we collapse
onto that white island, becoming the centre
of our own universe. The furniture rearranges
itself to orbit our sun as we begin a slow,
groaning implode...
Yes, I'm sure this is the end of the world.
*
I ask you to handle me as you would
your favourite book - you run a finger
down my spine, just for effect -
then trace out the Braille of my freckles,
not forgetting the extra notes you have
scribbled in my margins.
You slip your hand between my pages,
and my breaths become one long ellipsis...
*
Your fingers comb
my hair
and you are
spinning,
spinning gold
from straw.
*
I am the sun-swallowing horizon.
And I am here to consume every inch of your light.
*
My foot scales the wall - climbs onto the window ledge
where the sun is hissing and fingering the glass.
But we do not worship false idols here.
*
Night is here and you are not. I have left space for you
in the bed. My eyes fall on the window ledge.
I lift a leg from the duvet and retrace my footsteps
up the wall and remember you. Your touch. Yes.
*
I dream of an exile lived in that forgotten corner of France.
Lying in bed in a converted farmhouse I teach you
the parts of the body in French... "Ici la bouche...
la mâchoire... le cou... les doigts..."
You trace out each word with your tongue,
and soon you are fluent - whispering, murmuring
your new language into me, into the night.
*
And now, what is left after the end of the world?
The dark smell of brown sugar in an empty kitchen,
my cousins playing cricket in the park...
And me, sitting on my bedroom window sill
with a cigarette like a quill, smudging your name
onto the glass - the ash thicker,
more permanent than ink.
Comments
skinner_jennifer | July 12, 2011 - 12:15
Some beautiful descriptions here Magic. You seem to
beable to turn everyday life into such poetic words.
A great read.
Jenny.
SundaysChild | July 12, 2011 - 13:32
'It is a day busy with sunlight, boasting a bowl
of blue sky.'
What a lovely image- so clever to use the word 'boasting'!
These lines stood out to me too:
'And now, what is left after the end of the world?
The dark smell of brown sugar in an empty kitchen,'
I really liked that. xx
insertponceyfre... | July 12, 2011 - 13:40
some wonderful imagery in this - I love the lines sunday's chosen too
MistakenMagic | July 12, 2011 - 17:41
Thank you, Jenny! :) Glad you liked this one! I thought no one was going to comment - I was starting to get worried. So thanks for the lovely review!
Magic xxx
MistakenMagic | July 12, 2011 - 17:42
Hi Sunday - I struggled to find a starting image for this poem, so I'm happy you like the one I settled on :) Those last lines have to be my favourite too. Thanks for commenting!
Magic xxx
MistakenMagic | July 12, 2011 - 17:43
Thanks insert! Hope you are well :)
Magic xxx
Silver Spun Sand | July 12, 2011 - 20:01
As has already been said, Magic, some wonderful imagery here. Especially like these lines:-
"My foot scales the wall - climbs onto the window ledge
where the sun is hissing and fingering the glass."
But all of it, in its entirety, is just so beautifully poignant;-)
Tina xxx
MistakenMagic | July 12, 2011 - 23:10
Thank you, Tina! Glad you liked this one :)
Magic xxx
RachelPatricia | July 14, 2011 - 21:44
'with a cigarette like a quill, smudging your name
onto the glass - the ash thicker,
more permanent than ink.'
- really love the imagery in these lines, Magic :)
Hope you're well and enjoying the sunshine ;)
Rachel xx
MistakenMagic | July 15, 2011 - 00:31
Thanks, Rachel! Glad you like the ending :) I'm in France at the moment with my best mate looking after my cousins who live in Calais - we've just returned from the Bastille Day celebrations in Marquise!
Magic xxx
RachelPatricia | July 15, 2011 - 09:03
Sounds lovely, Magic! I was going to add a bit of French here, thought it would be in keeping, but I'm really not all that fluent in it at all so I will save us both the embarrassment and just say merci beaucoup!
Enjoy your hols and hope the sun keeps shining for you (and us!) while you're away :)
Rachel xx
Beeme | July 15, 2011 - 23:08
wow Magic! so many lovely images, I'm definatly going to be reading this over and over. It's stunning.
Beeme xx
MistakenMagic | July 15, 2011 - 23:59
Thanks so much, Beeme! I was really beginning to lose faith in this one - so I'm glad you like it :)
Magic xxx
Kahdai | July 18, 2011 - 00:26
Lovely beginning and about the foot climbing towards the sun made me smile. K
MistakenMagic | July 18, 2011 - 11:46
Thanks Kahdai!
Magic xxx
maggyvaneijk | July 18, 2011 - 15:38
I wish I could see the world through your eyes, the detail you pack into your poems is amazing. The second stanza is my absolute favourite. Congrats on another masterpiece!
MistakenMagic | July 18, 2011 - 20:04
Thank you, Maggy! If your poems are anything to go by you do see the world through my eyes - if not with more insight ;-)
Magic xxx
rjnewlyn | July 21, 2011 - 22:11
Wow - you just keep going. Still brilliant. I loved the end of the world repetition and the last section (the smell of brown sugar).
Rob
MistakenMagic | July 22, 2011 - 12:21
Thanks, Rob! I've been reading a lot of Octavio Paz and he uses repetition brilliantly - as does Czeslaw Milosz, this piece was inspired by is poem "A Song on the End of the World" :)
Magic xxx
MistakenMagic | August 2, 2011 - 20:13
Thanks, Julie! France was lovely - warm for the most part, even managed to get a tan! Glad you enjoyed this one, and no, I don't think it's the end of the world ;-)
Magic xxx
Cavalcaderl | August 2, 2011 - 20:44
new MistakenMagic
Hello Magic wonderful poem.
Thoroughly enjoyed, will read it again! and again!
The images colours and descriptions are amazing, may I say, I hope not the end of the world. I have a cheap picture "The Light Of The World" my belated father had one,although not religious, was thrown out, daughter I asked when small find me one market maybe and did, I was so thrilled. But this poem is mind blowing!
Why no cherry! yet definitely has it's way of thinking so. Have a great time in France.
Very sunny and warm and humid here. Always nice
hear from you.
all the best julie xx
celticman | August 6, 2011 - 12:55
Great stuff. Even the French would admire such brio.