I want to bake a mooncake.
When it is windy,
we are not that different anymore.
All the differences are swept
underneath God’s robe
and he melts them all at night
and makes a pair of eyes with them
for the next ill-fated baby.
I saw Benjamin.
and I told him about my prophecy:
“I portend future agony.”
Benjamin has the saddest eyes
ever written
to be given to a soul;
The eyes that worry,
the eyes that shine with fright,
the eyes that weep blood.
Big and blue.
Like that gem on that ring,
choking the swollen fingers of the man
who is laid there in an open casket
slowly decomposing.
I can hear the song of nullity
coming from his finger tips;
I can feel the smell of his bloodless brain.
I bow in respect
and I observe the little demons
flying off his skin;
His scent meets with my lips
as my lips throb
and shoot out captivating sparks...
flying off from me
into space
like phantoms...
I stole the hands of the last man
who kissed me...
to keep them for the day
when the wind blows again
and we’re not that different.
I’m going to bake a mooncake.
I make it from scratch:
with my own skin
that is glowing from the last moonburn
I got from my last calling
to the goddess.
I shape the dough
into two holes.
Deep caves...
The wind blows
and I have Benjamin’s eyes.
I caress my moonburned,
glowing skin
with the hands I stole from the last man who kissed me
I look through the saddest eyes in the world,
as I eat the last piece of me.
November 22, 2012
When it is windy,
we are not that different anymore.
All the differences are swept
underneath God’s robe
and he melts them all at night
and makes a pair of eyes with them
for the next ill-fated baby.
I saw Benjamin.
and I told him about my prophecy:
“I portend future agony.”
Benjamin has the saddest eyes
ever written
to be given to a soul;
The eyes that worry,
the eyes that shine with fright,
the eyes that weep blood.
Big and blue.
Like that gem on that ring,
choking the swollen fingers of the man
who is laid there in an open casket
slowly decomposing.
I can hear the song of nullity
coming from his finger tips;
I can feel the smell of his bloodless brain.
I bow in respect
and I observe the little demons
flying off his skin;
His scent meets with my lips
as my lips throb
and shoot out captivating sparks...
flying off from me
into space
like phantoms...
I stole the hands of the last man
who kissed me...
to keep them for the day
when the wind blows again
and we’re not that different.
I’m going to bake a mooncake.
I make it from scratch:
with my own skin
that is glowing from the last moonburn
I got from my last calling
to the goddess.
I shape the dough
into two holes.
Deep caves...
The wind blows
and I have Benjamin’s eyes.
I caress my moonburned,
glowing skin
with the hands I stole from the last man who kissed me
I look through the saddest eyes in the world,
as I eat the last piece of me.
November 22, 2012
Copied from Multiply:
ReplyDeletedpatrickt wrote on Nov 22, '10, edited on Nov 22, '10
Ah, THERE she is.
Good to see you back!
:-)
That body of the old guy in the casket
must be the body of Dali, Neruda, or Rimbaud!
..for you speak with the sparks of such eyes as theirs.
"I place my feet with care in such a world." (William Stafford)
More mooncakes!
(but save a few slices
and put 'em the fridge
for the ones you may love
tomorrow)
dpatrickt wrote on Nov 22, '10
I should be depressed,
but to read this enlarges my heart,
and my deep respect,
for your powerful talent.
simphanee wrote on Nov 22, '10
WHOA! NegiN!!!!!!!!!!! WOW!!!!!!!
FIrst................HELLO YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Second..............I must read this several more times............to feel some of YOU..................
So cool to see you!
simphanee wrote on Nov 22, '10
emeraldmoon said
all the differences are swept underneath God’s robe
and he melts them all at night
and makes a pair of eyes with them
for the next ill-fated baby.
So moving, so huge!
simphanee wrote on Nov 22, '10
ReplyDeleteemeraldmoon said
The eyes that weep blood
Big and blue
like that gem on that ring, choking the swollen fingers of the man
who is laid there in an open casket
slowly decomposing.
I can hear the song of nullity
coming from his finger tips;
I can feel the smell of his bloodless brain.
I bow in respect and I observe the little demons flying off his skin;
His scent meets with my lips
as my lips throb and shoot out captivating sparks
flying off from me
into space
like phantoms.
and I am bowing in respect.........for this expression of your insights to life and death, to phantoms made......
***bows***
simphanee wrote on Nov 22, '10
emeraldmoon said
I shape the dough
Into two holes
Deep caves. . .
The wind blows
And I have Benjamin’s eyes
I caress my moonburned, glowing skin
with the hands I stole from the last man who kissed me
I look through the saddest eyes in the world
as I eat the last piece of me
Such a depth to the mix of emotions pulled in me from reading you.
Such a range of vision!.......as I shape the dough given.
The last line just topped it for me!
emeraldmoon wrote on Nov 22, '10
oh my god Val! thank you.
you have no idea how much this means to me.
honestly don't know what to say...
emeraldmoon wrote on Nov 22, '10
Patrick, u inspire me, make me wanna be better, do u know how thankful i am for having u in my life? (alright in my inbox!)
Merci, for always being there for me...
simphanee wrote on Nov 22, '10
Sweetie, the wonderful man above, dpt, was really the person who got me to love poetry.
His stuff got me hooked, and now I LOVE to step, and see the world from inside,
another persons mind and heart. It is a love of mine, and I loved reading Mooncake.
I was grabbed, by the title alone!
Love it.
Experience, such a teacher, and to feel another's only expands my view.
Respect fully,
to you and Patrick................honored to connect with you both!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1
simphanee wrote on Nov 22, '10
The song I was listening to, while reading Mooncake was SO fitting, bout brought me to tears dear!
The song was, Don't Let Me Down..........by Bad Company..........Phew!
emeraldmoon wrote on Nov 22, '10
I just listened to the song, i had never heard it before, this is amazing!
the honor is mine Val, i can't believe this extraordinary bunch of beautiful people gathered in this place that not many know about!
i'm so grateful for being a part of this special community. i learn a lot from each one of you. thank you :*
simphanee wrote on Nov 22, '10, edited on Nov 22, '10
I have learned a GREAT DEAL too NegiN, a crash course of sorts, from running through the fields of a few multiply minds, reaching heights of gratitude and humor, that topple my fearful ego.
So very nice to see you today!
(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*( NegiN )*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*
mysticmaze wrote on Nov 22, '10
ReplyDeleteLovely to find this in my mailbox, Negin!
Extraordinary imagery giving us a glimpse of the soul within...
We're so happy when you rejoin us and share a bit of your dear Self!
We think of you often and hope all is well with you in that green part of the world... :-)))
emeraldmoon wrote on Nov 22, '10
Nancy,
thank you!
I tried catching you on the little multiply chat the other day, but i guess the messages wouldn't go through.
I've been thinking about you guys too.i hope we get to meet someday ;)
say hi to James for me ♥
simphanee wrote on Nov 26, '10
Hi NegiN! Just came by to say Hello, and read Mooncake again. In a mood for poetry, so will take a taste!
Very rich, thank you for sharing this!
Peace!
simphanee wrote on Nov 26, '10, edited on Nov 26, '10
emeraldmoon said
I stole the hands
of the last man who kissed me
to keep them for the day
When the wind blows again
and we’re not that different.
I’m going to make a mooncake.
I really love this..........................it inspires me to want to write too! Just that undefined longing felt so richly from Mooncake, just love how it feels as it shifts things. I like very much, the "experience" of Mooncake. TY!
emeraldmoon wrote on Nov 27, '10
Val, you have no idea how this makes me feel...thank you thank you thank for being so wonderful to me <3
simphanee wrote on Nov 27, '10
Well I mean it, and I SO hope you share more of you. I have come to love poetry, and yours is well worth
feeling great about! Such an art, to pull words out from the heart, and convey such passion, and the meaning can change for the readers ears each hear things another would not. So Cool, how that is!
I can never write if I "try" I just have to wait for inspiration, then let it fly out from tongue to pen with no thought. And so this is why I love reading other people's poetry, for inspiration and insights!
Have a wonderful weekend dear woman, and share you when you get the chance.
HUGE HUG for you!
Love
Val