Word Experiment # 11 A Ribbon Around Your Finger





Remember to Float


They asked me why I do not fly,
I told them it’s not that I don’t know how too,
I just need to be closer to the earth right now.



They asked me why I do not close my eyes
I told them it’s because I see so much better when they are open



They asked me how I move so quickly 



I tell them that I am pure electricity




I am plugged into each person that passes me on the street



I hear your thoughts way be for you do



A loud clatter of endless chatter



A bundle of extension cords twisting together



At night I reach over and unplug every cord
I turn you all off 
cause none of you are turning me on



All my connections are being shut down



They ask me why I do not sleep
I guess I’ve just never known how
But tonight, even with the moon calling to me
I am cutting these cords
One by one I am handing them back



Sometimes I float,
For, I have always know how to fly
But what I like best is floating
Just like being in water weightless
The water takes you and you are blameless



The first time I had my cords cut
I floated up
So quickly
I was unrooted 
Laughing
No way to get down
Who would want to?



I had never been this free
Not one single cord 
Tied up or anchoring me

May 2, 2012 at 2:44 PM

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Holly Swan said…
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April 22, 2012 at 11:38 AM
BT said…
Remember to Float

They asked me why I do not fly,
I told them it’s not that I don’t know how too,
I just need to be closer to the earth right now.

They asked me why I do not close my eyes
I told them it’s because I see so much better when they are open

They asked me how I move so quickly

I tell them that I am pure electricity

It’s important to never get too close
Never stand in a puddle and grab on to my skirt

Or I swear, you’ll land yourself across the room in a world of hurt.

I am plugged into each person that passes me on the street

I hear your thoughts way be for you do

A loud clatter of endless chatter

A bundle of extension cords twisting together

At night I reach over and unplug every cord
I turn you all off
cause none of you are turning me on

All my connections are being shut down

They ask me why I do not sleep
I guess I’ve just never known how
But tonight, even with the moon calling to me
I am cutting these cords
One by one I am handing them back

Sometimes I float,
For, I have always know how to fly
But what I like best is floating
Just like being in water weightless
The water takes you and you are blameless

The first time I had my cords cut
I floated up
So quickly
I was unrooted
Laughing
No way to get down
Who would want to?

I had never been this free
Not one single cord
Tied up or anchoring me
May 2, 2012 at 2:44 PM
M said…
BT -

This is a really good interpretation of the string around your finger. Drawing strength from closeness to the earth is definitely a great theme that runs through a lot of your poetry. Here, I like how you make the distinction between closeness to the earth and the idea that sometimes you have to remember to let yourself go and just float above everything too. Electricity, a current flowing from you and plugged into everyone who passes you on the street. That’s very good, and I’ve always liked the whole concept of connections; how people become connected in surprising ways and sometimes unexpectedly, but how you still have to be careful because sometimes electricity can be as dangerous as it is “illuminating.” These lines are some of my favorites: “It’s important to never get too close. Never stand in a puddle and grab on to my skirt. Or I swear, you’ll land yourself across the room in a world of hurt.” Great words of inner strength! Another part I especially like is the bundle of twisted extension cords, like the maddening chaos of things that become all mixed up… how sometimes all those “extension cords” have to be shut down (or untangled) for your own peace of mind in order to float. I think the part about sleeping (or not sleeping) is good too because it perfectly ties in with the idea of remembering to float – like floating in a deep, sound, happy dreamland sleep, reminding yourself of the importance of that. The last 3 lines are a nice ending, just a good reminder of what you need to remember to do in order to feel free and at peace!
May 8, 2012 at 1:16 PM
M said…
Clogged

My eyes feel heavy.
I want to close them, tight
like the seals around a waterproof watch,
and block what’s no longer visible
but remains,
lingering,
menacingly,
in memory.

Except, with closed eyes,
memories become more vivid;
and they’re not all good.
Their stories flicker past
like a home-movie.
They clickety-click
their way forward
very,
very
s l o w l y.

I press my fingers to my temples,
as if to squeeze out bad memories
like juice from ripe fruit.
I want them to drip,
no
Gush!
and
Crash!
out of my eyes and ears
once-and-for-all.
But too many are too thick,
and sour,
and heavy,
and they are clogged
and won’t drain.

I need to keep the good memories,
but, sometimes,
they become tangled...
in the bad ones.

The ones I want to keep are sweet,
and I ravenously feed off them
as they rise
to the surface of consciousness.
“Focus,”
I repeat like a mantra.
“Focus.”
But the sour ones...
those are ingrained like fossils.

My left hand begins to throb,
from palm through fingertips:
It's when I know to expect another storm, one that happens inside.
My hand is heavy
with melancholic memories,
mixed like a toxic cocktail.
The wind is picking up,
and the rain will soak everything.
But will it cleanse anything
this time?

Slipping into the eye of the storm
for an indefinite visit.
Then waiting for it to pass.

Wild nothingness.
Uncontrollable stillness.

Trying to remember what’s worth remembering,
and forget what should be forgotten.
Another mantra is born:
Remember to forget.
Remember to forget.

I’ve been trying to get something for this theme down on paper for about 3 months, but I’m not totally happy with what I wrote - so I’m going to think of it as a rough draft! I love the theme of “a ribbon around your finger,” and the whole idea of remembrance. It’s a great theme with lots of possibilities. I was trying to approach this from the angle of how sometimes remembrance is a problem. As everybody knows, not all memories are happy and it’s hard (or even impossible) to rid ourselves of bad memories and sometimes they can really catch up with us if we give them more power over us than they deserve.
July 16, 2012 at 5:13 PM
BT said…
MWB - I am clicking my fingers for you all through out this poem. It's perfect, no rough draft. This is my favorite "My left hand begins to throb,
from palm through fingertips:
It's when I know to expect another storm, one that happens inside.
My hand is heavy
with melancholic memories,
mixed like a toxic cocktail.
The wind is picking up,
and the rain will soak everything.
But will it cleanse anything
this time?" I love the speed of this poem, the way it winds up and takes off and then it lands with a mantra "Remember to forget.
Remember to forget." - eloquently written. I dig this my friend. So sorry I have been lost for a bit, it's the summer you see, it's taken me. xoxo
July 23, 2012 at 11:31 PM
BT said…
Ah, so many great lines in here, I am so glad you wrote this. MORE MORE MORE. xo
July 23, 2012 at 11:34 PM
M said…
Thanks, BT. I appreciate your comments! Now I feel more confident about this poem than I did at first. I want to work on rhythm/movement in my writing. Looking forward to reading more of your work and new word experiments in the fall or winter. Enjoy the summer and be well old friend. :)
July 25, 2012 at 2:17 PM
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