the leaves of my poem

Posted on by 
i chew the leaves of my poem
they fan green and spirited
in the height of their hour
veins visible like these 
that inscribe my hand, run
with the life of dreams 
that have nowhere to go but 
back  down   to the 
branch to the root
you don't see

look:
        their asymmetry of being

red oak stained with rain pollen
much like the blemishes on my face
t o r n  by time and caterpillars 
that become f u l l   and
bloom into butterflies

the leaves testify to all the seasons

green ash have weathered the wild 
waltz of wind and rain
hungry for the sun 
they drink from the clouds

i feel the laugh lines on the maple
and swallow their history -
    this one, curled copper
    like rusted edges but it's
just the candor of time 

grain and weave of memories 
cru n ch between my teeth
composition on my tongue
i chew the leaves of my poem


Poem Leaf

165 thoughts on “the leaves of my poem”

  6. This closure “in the height of their hour” is wonderful both for its rhythmic and blossoming elements. It speaks of a poem as having a time and place where it is most full.

    I like the metaphor of you as a caterpillar,
    The poem a leaf in say a book
    Or as you say come from your hands
    Or “run with the life of dreams.”

    Sure, don’t we all dream?
    In the first essence of our first love,
    We wish it had wide application
    To a world that is not lush,
    Barren certainly,
    Unsustainable,
    Except that it is sustaining in that it dispenses money
    For those of us, who have given ourselves resistantly.

    And almost like going “back down to the branch at the root,”
    I don’t see anything,
    Except that I know you as I might know myself,
    From the same village,
    An “asymmetry of being,”
    Which is “red oak stained with rain?”

    Our faces wear but move us from young and dreamy
    To ugly, eventually our words are undermined
    But how we look.

    How can we cast an argument for beauty when we have to hide,
    And our words have to be spoken at great distances
    Or else the whole world would know?

    There is no “candor”
    Only the effluvium of leaf
    The evergreen of the same
    Unchanging forest, which we can’t
    See for the trees
    They are only a type,
    Unhumanlike.

    Reply

    • “It speaks of a poem as having a time and place where it is most full.” Love that.

      “The evergreen of the same
      Unchanging forest, which we can’t
      See for the trees”

      Lovely. And sad.

      The caterpillar, oh the very hungry
      caterpillar my boy I nourish

      “t o r n by time and caterpillars
      that become f u l l and
      bloom into butterflies”

      It is because we all have dreams
      that I continue to write of them.

      You should turn your reflections into
      a poem and post.

      Reply

      • Turning my reflections into a poem seems to cheapen the gift. After all YOU inspired me, but I might seeing that you have opened the package and perhaps I can now do something with the paper.

        The statement: “It is because we all have dreams
        that I continue to write of them” implies that you write about dreams that we all have, but how can you know what dreams we have?

      • Refining it into a poem – if you want to refine – would be only the natural extension of the time and thought you already put into my work. Which in no way has diminished, only honored me.

        I don’t need to know the contours and recesses – the trees – of my readers’ dreams. It is more than enough that I might describe the forest for my wonderful readers to invite yourselves into and find your own grove, your space in – if I succeed.

  9. Great images and unexpected-leaves of a poem… sounds like the most gorgeous paper ever. “grain and weave of memories
    cru n ch between my teeth
    composition on my tongue” I can hear you devouring your words into poetry. Beautiful.

    Reply

  13. HEY!!! You stole this from my unwritten dream poem. It’s okay, I’ll let it slide.
    Seriously, I like this. I’ve always understood poetry for some reason (even though I don’t understand a lot of other stuff). I remember in high school English class, I was the only one who didn’t need translations of Beowolf and Shakespeare. After one reading of a love sonnet, a girl in class asked ‘why don’t guys today write this kind of sweet stuff’ The teacher told her, ‘Maybe you should go out with Scott, he seems to get it.’ …I don’t mean to sound cocky.
    Keep drinking from the clouds…
    Beautiful. Thanks for making my night.

    Reply

    • You got me laughing from the start – pretty much throughout, buddy. You know, here’s a record-breaker for ya. I would never ask this of someone but don’t unfollow, k? You keep it fun. This tired girl could use the laughs.

      Thanks for the feedback, too. And I understand I owe you $ for the theft. We’ll talk later.

      Btw, the traumeel oinmt came through aGaiN. My son rammed his head into a metal pole at the park this wk and produced an instant magical goose egg on his forehead. The parent who reached him before I did and saw what happened turned out to be an M.D. He told me to expect a black eye the next day, and between the traumeel and the arnica homeopathic, the little guy started healing right away. No such thing as a black eye.

      D.

      Reply

      • Haha. Don’t worry, you’re my fave. Will never unfollow.
        You can pay when you see me next. Hahaha
        Sorry bout your son. Glad he’s feeling better!
        Off topic. Have you seen Lost in Translation ?

      • 1) Aw, flattered.
        2) Pay you next time? We’ll talk… (Korean-Americans are RutHLesS bargainers).
        3) You mean the movie with that man and the married girl in Japan? Hated it.

      • 3) Sigh. So what (in the world) u love about it? It is a dim (dull ache of a) memory. I just thought it tried too hard to be funny. It prolly lost (pun intended) me from the time a married woman got that close with another man even if they didn’t sleep together. I thought the script was the archetype of stereotype. (Now’s your chance to keep my respect. FIGHT. FIGHT for your RIGHT to buLIEVE what you want! *In another life I woulda been a black American preacher*).

        2) 1) After I wrote you I realized you had the nerve to charge your fav blogger with grand theft.

      • Interesting. Considering it stared a comedy legend, I thought the humor was extremely subtle.
        As for the script, a lot of it was improv and decided on set. Even some of the characters were added in on the spot.
        I also find it interesting that you keep mentioning that she was married, but not that the man was too. Did that not matter to you, or did you forget? You’re right though, it is a story about a connection between two people, even though the don’t go through with it physically. That’s on the surface, what I’m more interested in is Why do they both feel the need to have that relationship? What are they missing in their own lives. I think the movie answers that.
        I love many things about the movie. I love how they make Tokyo a character. I like how we will never know what he whispered to her at the end that made her cry. I like how I can relate to their experiences in that I used to travel a lot. Often alone. I would do what they did – see historical sites, explore the city, sing karaoke in a bar, workout, try local foods, etc. I can also relate to the loneliness they had being by themselves in a strange city.
        But being in “the biz”, I am also in awe of how they actually made the movie. How they shot so guerrilla style. How they stayed up all night trying to figure out how scenes should go. How they did or didn’t get permission to shoot in locations. How they left in mistakes (like continuity) for the sake of keeping the best take. And how they didn’t even know if Bill Murray was going to be in the movie until he showed up in Tokyo. What would they have done if he decided not to show? Anyways, I could go on. Haha.

      • Ok, you got me. Gee, what can I say in my ignorance when you bring in the art behind it? The improv, all the decisions and last-minutes? Wow, I had no idea. And this was years ago so I don’t remember that he was married in the movie.

        “Why do they both feel the need to have that relationship? What are they missing in their own lives.”

        Awesome. I woulda loved you for an Eng lit student. =) Ha ha.

        You have risen on the ladder of respect in my eyes.

      • LOL! Don’t worry about it. If it was pretty low, remember it wasn’t about you and you can get over your bad self LOL. (Ex N Yorker talking. )It’s prolly some issues I had in my crazy inner world ha ha ha.

        As to my staying your fav, well….I was thinking there are over 75 million of us on WP. I know my days are numbered.

        But gratefully appreciate your favor I shall. (Ex-PA professional talking.)

    • “pleasing asymmetries…so much texture.”
      *Smiling* for the way you turn your compliments, Vic, esp because I refrained from the word “texture” that I came close to writing, as I wanted to show – not tell.

      I quite appreciate the f u l l ness of the feedback. =)

      D.

      Reply

      • I delight in poetry that engages my senses as yours did. At times it is difficult to express exactly what it is that we do feel, but I didn’t want to pass through without at least attempting to do your poem justice.

      • “I didn’t want to pass through without at least attempting to do your poem justice.”

        You really warmed my heart with the feedback, V, both time. This exchange is so precious. Thanks again.

        Fondly,
        Diana

      • As Keats would have it, “A thing of beauty is a joy forever: its loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness.”

        Hope you’re having a wonderful week, Diana. x

  21. I love the way you use your carefully chosen words, the feel and taste of them , as well as the sound, the spaces, the breaks, the rhythms, alliteration, each carefully placed to evoke an emotional response. Beautiful.

    Reply

  22. What a gorgeous ode-to writing, poetry, nature, beauty, Diana. I especially appreciate the luscious sensuousness of this piece, and your terrific use of onomatopoeia, alliteration, and juicy Images. Brava, my friend.

    Reply

  24. I read your words and they became in my mind – ballet shoes, pointed toes twirling across wet leaves, not stumbling – simply dancing. Thank you for sharing your beautiful talent.
    AnnMarie

    Reply

    • Would you clue me in so I can keep data for the future if what happened with you is part of a larger pattern? Were you unfollowed? Some have had that happen without their knowledge – incl my husband last yr – one realized she had done it by accident. Thanks for taking the time, GPC. =)

      Diana

      Reply

      • I know I was following you and suddenly I didn’t see you anymore – so I’m back on. This happened once before, with another blog I was following. Computer glitch I guess.

  28. Loved the “laugh lines on the maple” and will have to check it out for myself next time I hold a maple leaf. And, that is why I love poetry…to experience something ordinary in a new way.

    Reply

  29. Diana, I felt as though you brought us along for a lovely visit with old friends. Trees weave their roots into our hearts like no other part of the garden.

    Blessings ~ Wendy ❀

    Reply

    • “Trees weave their roots into our hearts like no other part of the garden. ”

      Absolutely lovely. Am honored for such reflective gems as you leave me, Wendy. Still eyeing the post on the energy of the earth and trees. Hopefully in the next few months!

      D.

      Reply

  30. Hello, fellow blogger! A peaceful day to you!
    Congrats! You are nominated for the Wonderful Team Member Readership Award.
    You can check Community of bloggers http://wp.me/p2EeT0-ow via @wordpressdotcom

    Regards,
    Nicci

    Reply

  32. Very nice Diana. Really beautiful how you make the vivid comparison between the leaves of the tree and of yourself. I especially like this:
    “run
    with the life of dreams
    that have nowhere to go but
    back down to the
    branch to the root
    you don’t see”
    🙂

    Reply

  33. BRAVISSIMA! I love the first few lines the most. If this is the kind of poem I get to read, then I’d chew it all day long. I’d make a salad out of it. 😆

    Reply

  34. Hi – Thanks for visiting and liking my Post! I’m happy you did, for it’s provided me with an opportunity to discover your blog. You are indeed a wordsmith! Your poems are so beautifully crafted and so emotionally appealing. I have a lot to savour here, and so much to learn from. Thank you.

    Reply

    • Shery, you bless me this day with your heartfelt words. I appreciate your letting me know something zinged you here. Welcome to this special community of thinkers. Thrilled and grateful you’ve joined us. Hope to talk again.

      Diana

      Reply

  45. Diana, this why I continually come back to read. Your talent is beyond description. It is so refreshing to see your mind in these lines.

    Reply

  46. This is one of my favorite poems of yours that I’ve read so far. ‘…the life of dreams
    that have nowhere to go but
    back down to the
    branch to the root
    you don’t see…’ The writing that doesn’t get done? The art that remains unexpressed?

    Reply

My Two Gold Cents in the Holistic Treasury

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

Gravatar
WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Cancel

Connecting to %s