My brand-new fear of chiseled angels sparking a dialogue
This bench backed by a concrete angel and a cold shiver
Along my back as I look away, murmuring at my phone
Reflecting his patient visage.
At the edge of a memorial park, on the Corner of Sighs...
So called by the kid who walks by and asks me
If I am still alive. I suspect everyone here is asked.
Perhaps he has read a book about lingering ghosts.
The concrete is warm, the grass itches my ankles.
I must be alive, irritable. I tell the angel I dream of books
I haven't read. I dream of a second chance for voices
Like dreaming of different angels on your shoulder.
It would have been a different life.
The above was inspired by an image on The Sunday Muse. It's, of course, not a true poem (whatever that may be; neither sonnet, nor sestina, nor epic; not written in Greek, Latin, ancient Irish, or Mandarin; nor does it refer to the deeds of a king and court or suggest a moral or ethical framework for the actions therein). It is a working draft of an idea. Perhaps tomorrow it may have more structure or it may bend toward a prosier delivery of the ideas percolating like weeds in the trampled margin of the roadway. I am grateful to have places to share it and the community of other poets whose work constantly challenges (and hopefully betters) my own. Also, excited for the baby ufos currently growing in the backyard. :)
This...piece...is being shared, despite its imperfections, with Poets United and the aforementioned Sunday Muse.
-- Chrissa
I love the penultimate stanza, the description of the speaker's state of being. The matter-of-fact tone works so well.
ReplyDeleteI dream of books I haven't read... what a great way to describe a state of mind.
ReplyDeleteA dream within a dream comes into mind.
The geek girl in me was hooked by what appears to be a Dr. Who reference (Weeping Angels). And I was along for the ride thinking about some of the possible outcomes that might have occurred if I went right instead of left. There's always something that brings me back to reality, whether it's itchy grass or phone that needs to be answered.
ReplyDeleteAh, i often frequent the Corner of Sighs, and love the lad asking if the narrator is still alive. I love this poem, a new favourite of yours.
ReplyDeleteThis is absolutely lovely! I especially admire the penultimate stanza.❤️
ReplyDeleteI wanted the poem to go on. The question of are you still alive and then not knowing struck me and intrigue me still.
ReplyDeleteIt is good that the angel was there to hear the confession. We all need someone to listen even if what we are saying sometimes is a bit unusual. Smiles.
ReplyDeleteDreams of books, not read - and then the line 'It would have been a different life' … Wowsers … that took me in all kinds of directions. Wonderful!
ReplyDeleteDreams of books...I different angel on each shoulder. "I must be alive"...yes, you must be but one has to wonder sometimes
ReplyDeleteThis feels surreal and dreamlike, making me long for more lines! Beautiful as always Chrissa!
ReplyDeleteI dream of books
ReplyDeleteI haven't read. I dream of a second chance for voices... like that!
This feels like an in-between place, of which I’d love to know more about. Story?
ReplyDelete"I dream of books I haven't read" love that. I often go to cemeteries to photograph angels. They watch over the dead, and yet I feel they are waiting for me to speak.
ReplyDeleteI too love your line, "I dream of books I haven't read"
ReplyDeleteI love this; such interesting places you take us. Seems like a finished poem to me!
ReplyDeleteLots of unspoken thoughts, "On the Corner of Sighs...", I love that line.
ReplyDelete