Space

image

Inside this head
Edge space
Light years
Shadow.

Outside this head
Space face
Shade tears
Woe.

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Landing

“Where’s the moon?”
Gasping in the dark there,
Caught up in the branches
Through the kitchen window.

I can’t breathe.

*

“Can I come in?”
No, I’m growing wheat
And my herd and flock
Are grazing here.
You’ll have to rot.

Your blood and bones
Will fertilise my earth.

You can’t breathe here.

*

The moon is screaming.
It will keep us awake.
Suffocate us all.

About Lazywednesdays

I like poems

I like the space

I like the playfulness

The to and fro of wordballs

You throw

I’ll catch, sometimes

But usually I’ll just be standing in the space… over there, on the right and up a bit

My eye isn’t always on the ball.

The space around poems is luxurious, abundant, infinite, protected and free, expensive and cheap, all mine, all yours, comforting and disconcerting

Like an air~steward’s smile

All over the place

over here

and over here

<- Her palms indicate exit signs ->

You’ll be fine!

But still you count the seats in front and behind

The space around poems is like green fields around a city

Peace of mind?

I’ll give you a piece of my mind

Just step outside the next line.

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The first poetry book I was given was called, “I Like This Poem” (1979) and it had a picture of a dog balancing a red ball on its nose.  I loved that book!

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Some Inspiring Articles about Poetry:

Poetry Changed the World

Injury and the Ethics of Reading

http://www.bostonreview.net/BR37.4/elaine_scarry_poetry_literature_reading_empathy_ethics.php