Thursday, February 23, 2006

Written Out

I thought I’d written myself out
thought I’d written myself out of words
written myself out of melancholy
myself out of friends.
And I had.

Now here is a poem about nothing.

A poem about my father cutting
his intestine out, and my sister
stapling her stomach and sucking
her thighs and hips off.

Here is a poem about my mother’s voice
getting older over the phone,
and gifts forgetting their address
and getting lost in the mail.

A poem about another couple of friends
who are no longer, as of last Sunday;
and another who stopped being
a few months before.

Here is a poem about days slipping
under the couch, and nights
not even good for sleeping;
a poem about not writing poems.

A poem about a few years
not worth writing about
or even remembering;
here’s a poem about not writing.

Here is even a poem
about not even writing to you,
because it would take words to do so,
and I am all out of them.

I have


katy said...

i read this whole piece like the preface and the last stanza, those last 5 words, are the empoch, the zenith, the magnificent, the promise fulfilled. for that, i adore the poem and even more the poet. as always.

Ramz said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
LeRamz said...

this is a fantastic piece of art. It's the mark of a great poet when you read his poem as a story, and it speaks to you.

Just wow.

Scorpio said...

I've just created my english blo and I see your writings are interesting, so if you'd like to comment mine on I'd appreciate it.
Thank you.

Scorpio said...

You see we write out when somethin is broken in our lives, thats' why I started writing too.
Before I used to write in private diaries, but this blogging thing is much better, you can this way meet new people to let your life go on and on.
I'm very happy to read your poems, interesting and full of realistic viewpoints.
So see u soon on my blog.