Poem: Refuge
Nov. 28th, 2007 11:50 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bliumchikREFUGE
there is a dry specific loneliness
for we displaced, for we eternal refugees
we constant truants from our mourned no-longer-place
of birth. it wraps around us like a cloak
like your fool tin-can armour, only it deflects
a far more precious metal.
I am here, yet here is out of step
and I am out of reach. who dares to cross
that no man’s land, to touch
what crouches here beneath the flagstones of my temple?
this small dissynchrony of spirit is as solid
as the earth your feet embrace with such a surety
such trust as I can never, here, quite catch
and make my own. I, the eternal visitor
forever welcomed with good china
and polite regard. it’s pleasant, here,
and never fully warm. this I am accustomed to.
but you, you are a fertile land!
in your hills and valleys I have found
my homeland I had long thought turned to ash;
in your cartography a lifetime
beckons. take no breath
I do not share with you, hold not a word
but free it from your lips to my adoring ear.
keep nothing of your soul from me, now you are
where I hang my heart.
Notes: It always feels odd to write a love poem about nobody in particular. The characters in this were barely impressions in my brain, I haven't done anything else with them at all or even put it on my to-do list. I just got some lovely imagery out of a tangent to some musing on the descriptive anatomy of slash (I've been reading a lot of it lately, that may be why the romantic streak) and it grew into this. Actually, now that I come to think about it, there is a certain DC pairing this poem fits into quite nicely. Huh. What do you know. Well, that can be a bonus for those of you so inclined who can figure it out.
there is a dry specific loneliness
for we displaced, for we eternal refugees
we constant truants from our mourned no-longer-place
of birth. it wraps around us like a cloak
like your fool tin-can armour, only it deflects
a far more precious metal.
I am here, yet here is out of step
and I am out of reach. who dares to cross
that no man’s land, to touch
what crouches here beneath the flagstones of my temple?
this small dissynchrony of spirit is as solid
as the earth your feet embrace with such a surety
such trust as I can never, here, quite catch
and make my own. I, the eternal visitor
forever welcomed with good china
and polite regard. it’s pleasant, here,
and never fully warm. this I am accustomed to.
but you, you are a fertile land!
in your hills and valleys I have found
my homeland I had long thought turned to ash;
in your cartography a lifetime
beckons. take no breath
I do not share with you, hold not a word
but free it from your lips to my adoring ear.
keep nothing of your soul from me, now you are
where I hang my heart.
Notes: It always feels odd to write a love poem about nobody in particular. The characters in this were barely impressions in my brain, I haven't done anything else with them at all or even put it on my to-do list. I just got some lovely imagery out of a tangent to some musing on the descriptive anatomy of slash (I've been reading a lot of it lately, that may be why the romantic streak) and it grew into this. Actually, now that I come to think about it, there is a certain DC pairing this poem fits into quite nicely. Huh. What do you know. Well, that can be a bonus for those of you so inclined who can figure it out.
