~
The beams, thirsty in their plumb aligned structure,
drink deeply of the improvised sound issuing from the garden
The cello’s notes satiating the kiln dried wood
~
In an upstairs bedroom a woman moves to the music
unbidden thoughts seeping in slow aching, wandering
the intimate landscape still mapped within her heart
~
Shaking them loose, she leans precariously out of the window
listening to the ripening tenor notes, admitting she’s
grateful now to be by herself yet questioning…
~
What am I to do with my internal tenderness?
There is no one here to reach for
listening to the first bird’s song?
~
This softening moves through her
seeking to be moored in the infinite, not in the observed
third person distance of Wife or Her or She
~
Bending her head to the low deep notes of the cello
the forest memory of its burnished wood
resonates between her thighs
~
I’ve reawakened the elasticity of my flesh
by becoming weightless, a quickening again
There is no measure in this
~
Vulnerable it moves too fluidly to have a name
it spreads out and collects
like dark pools reflecting sky after rain
““““““““““““““““““““““““““““
~
Painting….Peter Harskamp
Phew! *Mops brow throwing beads of perspiration to one side and asking* – what the heck was she listening to?
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Just having fun Hariod. Although the cello can knock my socks off.
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The coupling of your poem with the painting, for lack of better terms, was a beautiful moving experience. Thanks.
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Thanks Ted! When I saw the picture I knew it was perfect.
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I’m with Hariod and Ted…what WERE you listening to, and your words do dance so well with Mr Harskamp’s painting. I hear great beauty and great sadness here Jana, you know how to pluck the heart strings…
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Thanks John. Beauty and sadness…all part of the ongoing saga, but I was having a go at spinning analogies. Stretching the poetic muscle…. wink wink
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‘ like dark pools reflecting sky after rain ‘ Stunning Jana.
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Thanks Mark… my favorite too. It’s the ‘jazz’ line.
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Oh my!
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Oh my indeed! Thanks Nadia
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maybe it’s the space between you and the music but, so….unveiled.
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Blush….but poetry is the perfect ground for unabashed vulnerability. Isn’t this one of the doors to those wonderful resonant connections?
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You are on fire Jana.
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Chris! Just thinking of you. I saw your gravitar yesterday on someone’s post and here you are… thanks for taking the tour. And I hope you’re still enjoying communing with the chickadees.
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Indeed, “One of the doors to those wonderful resonant connections.” There is deep engagement.
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Like a leaf in a small whiff of light…. thanks Virgilio
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This is so tender and brave. And acute – I love how visual it is.
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Ah good, Richard… thank you! I’ve been working towards a more visual expression.
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Tenderly evocative, Jana. So lovely.
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Thanks Bonnie… trying new things and finding how hard it is to stretch, but how invigorating the exercise is.
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Simply beautiful
Your words are like a map of a wantsome mind
Perfect art work too
As always Sheldon
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“…a map of a wantsome mind”. You know how to turn a phrase Sheldon. Thanks!
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spontaneous alphabets
reshaping mouths
tongues dancing off teeth
someday
we’ll all swim
in your language
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Ah Geo… It’s a big ocean. How creative to be swimming in this big school of fish!
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jazz, a cello, a woman who aches and then because of the pain experiences a re-awakening — all ingredients in the making of a powerful experience for the reader. and the last stanza reads aloud so beautifully.
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Thank you for your description Michael. To me it means that the poem translated as a story. Something you do very well with your own work. I’m taking notes!
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thanks for the compliment. i find much to learn from your work, as well.
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Beautiful work, Jana. You weave so much elegance into your work, it is a wonderful sensation moving through each stanza. I love the accompanying art as well. ❤
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I thoroughly appreciate your comment! I’ve been working on a sense of movement and it is reassuring that you’ve taken note. Thanks!
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If poems were batteries, this one’s fully charged. Makes me nostalgic for a specific Percy Heath cello solo I heard in a park a few years ago– I think he would’ve loved the poem.
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Thanks John…! Jazz in the park sounds ideal.
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hai
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