Dropped Pages is a series of poems that were originally dropped from my books and chapbooks. I have reclaimed them here.
This poem was dropped from Everyday Angels and Other Near Death Experiences.
I will mail a copy of the book to the first person who can tell me what famous affair had I just learned about (had just been confessed to the public) when I wrote this poem.
August in America
were you lonely
was the music crisp
was her skin soft and welcoming
curves of an angel falling like a friend
did you close your eyes
slow down a
moment
no where to go no sin
no voices no death
did you hold her in that end of time
forgetting forgotten and full
is there space for tantra in the new millennium
is dancing far away as birth
is your face feeling old do you look there often
gaze at the mirror in stranger
your skin notice something there
a mark not there before
and it’s not going away
did you want to be good
did you miss you mother
did you crawl into her go away and come back
with more than you left becoming less
turning in on itself
leaving a hole to gaze into
thinking of
how much less time
there is to love
Ride the TRAIN.
LOve the flow of this..
dancing verses
And it sure is good to see you on the train!
Thanks, Gautami… especially for resurrecting a train to come back to!
wonderful poem, i don’t like guessings so i will have to get the book my self, but after reading that this should not be so hard …
great..
thanks, utopian. i tried to think of a clue, but all of them sounded to obvious. I can tell you it was quite a famous affair
Thomas Merton!
I have the book al-
ready, please donate prize to
a good, worthy cause.
=8]
uh, no. but, uh… good guess.
“is dancing far away as birth”
I don’t know why you dropped it–I love the “velvet-hammered” tone.
Thanks, Angie. It just wasn’t working for me at the time. I suddenly realized what was wrong… I just needed to remove the first two stanzas. 🙂
Interesting poem…absolutely insightful and with phrases that will stick around…I haven’t a clue who – only the month might indicate Pres 42.
Tumblewords is Correct! I wrote this poem after Bill Clinton confessed to being involved with Monica Lewinsky. I was on a road trip and literally pulled over the the side of the highway to write it.
Of course, in hind sight I probably gave Bill a little too much credit… but I was in love at the time, so… you know.
I’ll e-mail for your address. 🙂