NaPoWriMo / NaPoREADMo — Day 2 — Cartography II




Cartography II

Of course we are all lost.
We have been lost many 
times before.

Off course, we all search.
We have been searching
for a long time. 

We search 
for some sense
but history proves 
that this proves
nothing.

What we seek and search for,
we will never have,
we can never touch or grasp or collect.

Still we suck at it like 
an empty teat and
vanish right along with it.

.the point . the quest.
meets the dragons of the horizon. 

Some drag that same 
horizon around 
like a brittle map.

Some scream in the square 
at passers-by,
 “Look!  Here, where the 
ocean meets the sky! 
Here it is!  I have found it!”

Some look away. 
Some shuffle their feet on by
some loony preaching kingdoms 
of lost treasures and flatness.

We know how these things go.
We’ve heard these stories before.

Zeno’s been there. 
His fleet-footed friend 
is never fast enough. 

We hurry home, loose hopes
like flocks out to pasture,
and throw found prayers 
at the forever locked and
stricken horizon.

our noses fall off for us 
we the de- 
and in-
spite of all faces

we are not particles
this particularity 
this peculiarity is 

yet

we spin in the same 
spaceless circles

we cannot find our waste 
precious time searches 
for what cannot be found
without or within
(but) what does the searching
(we) must be who we are

Aren't we that which 
makes us wonder?

Aren't we that wonder 
which makes us?

Are we what 
wonder makes?







Advertisements

15 thoughts on “NaPoWriMo / NaPoREADMo — Day 2 — Cartography II

  1. “loose hopes
    like flocks out to pasture”

    Oooo. I LOVE this line, this image. Like a bunch of sheep, hopes are.

    And BTW Your reading of this is spectacular. It makes the poem come alive. Thanks for taking the time to read. Poetry is meant to be read and heard.

  2. Excellent, so many nuggets here, and as usual it all makes a whole – i don’t know how you do it. Dragging the horizon around like a brittle map – what an image. Some of my clients do that, wishing for an impossibility.

    • But, Lynn, you can do the impossible, can’t you? 😉

      Thank you for your kind words. My image pool has been rather dry lately. I was on a roll when I wrote these, I think. I have discovered that I need a rather significant amount of uninterrupted time for almost literal navel-gazing and lately…..it just isn’t there.

      • Uninterrupted time? With catering, restaurant, family and blog? Who knows what else?
        The thing about people with whom I work who struggle, is that most of them have dementia, and their moments of railing against this or that often pass pretty quickly. It can be fairly easy, sometimes, to redirect and present a less painful reality to be in. For that moment anyway. A rubber band horizon?

        • “A rubber band horizon?” Exactly what I am exploring with my “Missing” series. Just posted them. My father had Alzheimer’s. The poems are about my experiences in dealing with that as well as his and my mother’s death and how these things all get muddied up by memory and loss and loss of memory.
          You have my gratitude and respect for the work that you do.
          Thank you–

          • I love the mix of “get muddied up by memory and loss and loss of memory.” I bet you’ve thought a lot about memory! I didn’t have to go through that with family, and it’s much easier when you’re not family – much. OK, I should go see what I’ve missed now, and the Missing…

Leave a Reply

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

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com 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 )

Google+ photo

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

Connecting to %s