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Poems at Six

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  • naga.moon
    Poems at Six I sat writing poems in my head, repeating the lines over and over so I might remember them when I reached the safety of paper and pen but it was a
    Message 1 of 1 , Feb 4, 2006
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      Poems at Six



      I sat writing poems in my head,
      repeating the lines over and over
      so I might remember them
      when I reached the safety
      of paper and pen
      but it was a long wait and
      I had to etch the words
      in my mind.
       
      It was prayer time
      in the small chapel
      with its scattering of stars
      painted across a blue heaven
      that made my eyes dance.

      I knew that sometimes
      they winked at me
      and only I could see them
      and should not say anything.

      I couldn't yet spell, I was only six
      when I started my poems and
      they became longer each year
      as my memory strengthened
      and my words grew.

      I hid them in at the bottom
      of my underwear drawer
      but they were always found
      and taken away as if
      I had a secret aberration.
       
      I wrote everywhere,
      intoxicated by
      sounds and smells
      and the words that
      floated out of mouths
      and the notes dropped by birds
      and the sticky undersides
      of leaves, the taste of sap and
      the totally improbable
      bodies of beetles.

      I have ghosts of the old poems
      in my head who walk the corridors
      on full moon nights and remind me
      I still wonder at stars in blue heavens
      and the amazements of beetles.


      naga.moon
       




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