Morning

Cherry

By onemorething

Tue, 20 Aug 2019
  • 2139 reads
10 comments
 

I wish I could remember being born,

of crying out, air ripping open lung,

bare and raw to antiseptic ward,

new glistening morning of new life.

I wish I could recall the untainted, 

dewy me of then.

 

And if I could live in the initial, innocent

second of waking, if I could exist 

in that one unadulterated moment

when seemingly nothing has gone before,

a version of me who is anonymous 

to myself almost; egoless bliss in this

fleeting vacuum, then I would.

 

But then pupils constrict to daylight 

and person and history tsunami surge

back in, sullying, words of teeth in my head,

grinding out a persistent nag of death;

an existential emergency, a siren

reminder to carve out some meaning

despite the terrorism of self and its endless

contradictions because even my atheism

has religious tones, stinks of incense.

 

But more skies will disintegrate to weather,

more lost poems will fire like spent bullets,

Golgotha on this fucking Ghost Train

in my fish bone brain,

my feeble frayed lace thoughts,

heart waxed to dull throb

must assemble and rearrange

to accommodate it all again.

 

Certificate 18
Poem
Unclassified

Comments

Submitted by jeand on

Hi onemore

 

This is so good. You start with the absolute beginning and get more and more complicated and involved in life. Beautifully done.

Jean

Jean Day

Submitted by onemorething on

Hi Jean, 

Thanks so much for coming to read this and for your very kind comment. I’m glad you liked it. :)

 

Submitted by Rhiannonw on

Interesting. The longing to be able to start again, clean slate, but the awareness that it would soon have the same or similar mistakes, and not really keen to face the same battles to try to make something despite the failures and frustrations. Someone said that no-one is really a total atheist deep in their hearts, but it's nothing as complicated as incense that can really help. It's who Jesus was/is (and his Golgotha for us) and has the one who made everything reached out and spoken invitation.That's worth reading about - in the record book! Rhiannon

 

Submitted by onemorething on

Hi Rhiannon,

No one is an atheist in their hearts, more in their minds. Incidentally, I meant Golgotha in terms of suffering / conflict / war not Jesus’ crucifixion so I hope you weren’t offended. Thank you for reading this and taking the time to comment as I’m sure there’s lots in this that conflicts with your beliefs. No offence intended, of course. :)

 

Submitted by Rhiannonw on

Oh, no, no offence taken! I hope you weren't either in my interest in your thoughts and sharing of my response that might be helpful.. Rhiannon

 

Submitted by luigi_pagano on

Another impressive poem dealing with the reality of a life full of suffering and nagging doubts, when even faith oscillates between atheism and agnosticism. and hankering for a return to the innocence of the moment after birth.
An interesting and deep introspection.

Best, Luigi 

 

Submitted by onemorething on

Hi Luigi, 

Thanks, am pleased you found it interesting. Also that moment of just waking up too where you are almost a blank slate for a moment. Or perhaps that’s just me! Thanks for reading and thank goodness for your cheer and humour to lighten from my suffering poems! :)

 

Submitted by onemorething on

Thanks for the cherries. :)

 

Submitted by Di_Hard on

"a version of me who is anonymous 

to myself" I really liked that, feeling of being clean, or maybe unscarred?

"persistent nag of death;"reminder to carve out some meaning"  Yet everything we think and write falls like leaves to the forest floor

 

Submitted by onemorething on

Thanks, yes, I think so. Having a meaning to life or finding meaning to things is our most human urge alongside a need for connection to others, isn’t it, beyond language itself, I think, we are meaning seekers. Thanks for reading and taking time as always. :)