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Kylabelle
11-18-2014, 12:51 AM
(Okay, this is the second of three longish poems I want to share here. I hope you enjoy this one. Written sometime mid 1990s, and only shared in readings.)
~~~~

The Great Also,
the Forever Tree: and maybe it's always
synaesthesia, like, look how this word
FREE is green, like GREEN only
blown open by a wind first and
then a fire, not closed off
like the edge of a crayon where
someone (who?)
is tempted to think color just stops, boxed
into its predictable shape
at the factory. You're not
tempted, are you?

(On a lamp post in the middle of the bridge,
a piece of green tape, and hand penciled,
"the factory is out of control") Yes,
I'm tempted, always tempted to believe
edges like that must
enclose and exclude. For
example, you're out there, invisible, and I'm
in here, writing this.

But the Great Also, in the details
where everything numbingly the same
is stunningly various, and vice versa, secretly
runs the out-of-control factory. Yes?
Hoping to remain hidden, to be found, to be cloaked, to remain
in plain view unseen as ever,
laughing behind bejeweled Hands.

So you're sitting there, real as blood and bones could
make anybody and who'm I but
a wraith, a figment?

What evidence
do we really have? Memory? This paper
is seen through in an instant. Also,
as leaves ranked upon a branch, their cells burst
by hard freezing, sing their greenest limned with
ice diamonds until a sweet thaw reveals
their death. Also, say,
you fell in love. THIS awakens everything
I meant to be and never could hear
myself crying for. But Also, say your love is not
returned you are betrayed left abandoned. But
Also.

There is the crayon and there is
the full colored world, blessedly
out of control. The Great Also says now
"Consider poverty. Consider the poverty
of getting what you want."

And I say, "but Also, what I want
is to be a crayon in your
Hand."

Listen. How loud
the Silence is.

Atehequa
11-18-2014, 03:14 AM
Interesting read.

Kylabelle
11-18-2014, 03:27 AM
Thank you.

Atehequa
11-18-2014, 03:54 AM
Thank you.

And thank you for these words -

"There is the crayon and there is
the full colored world, blessedly
out of control."

Grabbed my attention and swirled around a bit in my skull.

Kylabelle
11-18-2014, 03:56 AM
Cool!

lacygnette
11-18-2014, 06:14 AM
Kyla, this is lovely. I've read it twice and only begun to crack it open. I know you said you were finished with it, but perhaps consider removing the last "is" and the "this" after writing. My ear stumbled on both words. Anyway I liked the internal rhymes and that you reached so far.

I'll read it again I know.

Kylabelle
11-18-2014, 06:21 AM
Hey, Swanny, thanks for the read and the kind words. Your suggested changes have been suggested by others. And, well, you know, I like both of those words there, saying and doing what they say and do. Still, I appreciate your careful ear very much.

TedTheewen
11-18-2014, 10:40 AM
I love those last two stanzas!


And I say, "but Also, what I want
is to be a crayon in your
Hand."

Listen. How loud
the Silence is.

That first one is powerful.

Kylabelle
11-18-2014, 04:08 PM
Ted, thank you very much.

Chris P
11-18-2014, 07:24 PM
Nice poem, Kyla! I'd love to hear it read aloud sometime. (YouTube?!?)

Kylabelle
11-18-2014, 08:28 PM
Chris, I'm delighted you think so, and yes I should one of these days get over my tech fumble-wittedness enough to make some sound recordings, at least. I used to have a good reading voice.

:D

Antonin
11-21-2014, 11:42 PM
This one, a lot like your last one if I'm remembering correctly, feels very personal. Though this time it's as if I am listening in on a conversation that may or may not be in the mind of the narrator. I'm betting that it isn't.

Also, I really enjoyed unpacking the second half.

Your imagery is wonderful, as always. My favorite being



as leaves ranked upon a branch, their cells burst
by hard freezing, sing their greenest limned with
ice diamonds until a sweet thaw reveals
their death. Also, say,


Which I then found rather striking that a few lines about love come after. The idea of once beautiful leaves are made more beautiful temporarily at their death seemed to linger on in the talk about love. I was, and still am, a little confused about the who is loved/loving if it is the narrator or whomever the narrator is speaking to, but it definitely carries. My thought is that the person being spoken to feel in love with another... but that love was not returned leaving the narrator in that position of getting what was wanted... yet not truly. That whole last half spoke very loudly of that strange kind of layered pain.

I like how the talk about the crayon tied everything together and also brought a sense of purity to everything. After all, crayons are something usually used by children (and I can't think of any time I saw any of my artist friends using them). And its use made the tragedy I saw in this poem far more tragic. The feelings expressed (and then betrayed) by the narrator felt so pure with placed alongside this device.

Like Ted mentioned above, those final lines are powerful.

Kylabelle
11-22-2014, 12:06 AM
Antonin, thank you. I believe, and hope, that the confusion about who is being addressed would be less of an issue if you heard this read. There is a little twist to it admittedly, but only a brief one, and basically the "you" is general, and even including the narrator, until it becomes more directly addressing the Great Also.

God if that even made sense. LOL!

anyway, thank you very much, I am not being nearly as articulate in my response as you are in your comment. :)