Sunday, April 18, 2010

Magpie Tales, Week Ten



I lay on my side, eyes closed,
counting seconds.
One thousand one.
One thousand two.
One thousand three.

Earlier in the shower
I counted how long to rinse my hair –
one thousand fifty nine,
one thousand sixty.
One minute is long enough
to rinse the soap
and the day down my back,
around my ankles,
in whirls around the drain.

But now, damp hair on my pillow,
I count… what?
The number of seconds
till sleep shoulders its way
through the crowd?
The number of pounds
I've lost or gained?

Or perhaps it is the
number of days before
he touches me again.

In the morning,
I count the number
of times I can hit snooze
before leaving the warm bed.
I put my arm around him,
trying to melt against his side,
trying to erase my dream demons,
trying to say how much I love him
in this chaste embrace.

To participate in Magpie Tales, or to read other entries (you won't be sorry!), just click here.


25 comments:

  1. A very interesting interpretation of the photo. I really like your poem.

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  2. Wow. you have such a talent with words. I am pulled in by your poetry.

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  3. Omgosh this was just as I was when I worked full time, I counted and timed every part of getting up and showering to getting into work... yes I was stressed..
    Very clever

    Christine

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  4. Dear "The Bug": How I love your affectations of affection especially your "chaste" romance with time. Quite a looker! The countdown was indicative of how we (humans) like to make routine our lives and live by the clock rather than just live. It is said one has to countdown for an embrace I can totally relate to that! Time to take charge and hug time back! Maybe he'll give you some space! Excellent! Bravo and bravura!

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  5. I admire this talent you and others have. Well done!

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  6. Hey Bug, I've been offline for a bit, and returned to find lovely words here :-) What a great gift, and a lovely surprise.

    This one really captured me, and I say that as a person with an iffy relationship to poetry. My mind tends to wander when I read poetry, I don't know why. I think we've actually discussed that here before.

    So I was riveted, and for me, with my poetry-makes-me-spacey sort of brain? I can't think of a better way to say, "That was lovely." and have you truly understand that I mean it.

    I was just glancing through your posts, too. Such fun, quirky, sunny pictures you have here. I think that's perfect for you.

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  7. A hidden story here, ticking like a time bomb. Intriguing!

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  8. Counting the hours, counting the days, counting the ticks of the clock. We live in a time when time is so very important that we live for the sound of the hour.
    This is a well written, thoughtful piece. Well done.
    Star

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  9. i love those embraces early in the morning...though this one sounds bit cold...nicely done magpie!

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  10. Oh Bug, we must learn somehow not to count the passages of time but to live with them. Well written.

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  11. Very good..with the ring of truth!

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  12. exhilerating... yes, I love this piece!!!!
    I count everything too. ;)
    rel

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  13. I love yours very much,
    what vivid and skillful tale!

    outstanding post!

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  14. http://jingleyanqiu.wordpress.com/2010/04/19/it-is-time-to/

    mine is here,
    thank you in advance for reading it.

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  15. love the inspiration photo- are we all so pre-occupied with time that we have forgotten how to spend it wisely?

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  16. Dear The Bug,
    We do count our time, don't we?

    This provokes a lot of thought. I am with Catalyst on this one, how do we live, not just the schedule but the fullness of time.

    Thank you,
    Ann T.

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  17. I can relate to this one for sure -- I am not good with clocks and time -- but go with my own inner cadence.

    Nice work, Joanny

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  18. I liked the poem. How about if I just read your entries since you do a great job. :)

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  19. This was great! I really liked "till sleep shoulders its way through the crowd". Gently romantic without being sickly. I'm driving the Poetry Bus next week - I think you should come and join in.

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  20. Ooo, I like the counting theme here. I'm a counter. I totally relate to this one. Clever, Bug.

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  21. Your poem turned in a very surprising direction there near the end. Surprised me anyway! As Vicki pointed out, the counting down like the ticking of a time bomb that will go off eventually.

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  22. How beautiful this was.

    This part especially spoke to me..

    "till sleep shoulders its way
    through the crowd"

    How many nights I've waited for that.

    Lovely, Bug.
    Bella

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  23. Hi Bug, some lovely phrases in there, well written and controlled

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  24. This line made me stop and think "One minute is long enough
    to rinse the soap
    and the day down my back." I like the imagery of rinsing the day with all its cares and troubles down the drain each day.

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