Talking with my mother in an empty house
2
The postman knocks on the door
then thrusts a letter through the letter box
when the letter falls to the mat
the dog leaps upon it and snaps her teeth
ripping the intruder into soggy bits
am i now the intruder?
will invisible bandages of cellotape
make me whole and readable again?
will i survive in the words of your song?
mother, you are still a swift river of blood
flowing within my skin
and bordered by my bones
Talking with my mother in an empty house
1
pale and delicate
much too frail to survive
an early butterfly
blows against your rose bush
and is caught on a thorn
the white of its shredded wing
a sudden shriek
bleeding snow over the garden
did you write those words to disguise my voice?
am i the butterfly?
does your writing echo my cry?
thoughts pound through my head
like waves on the shoreline
each spoken word
a grinding of tiny pebbles
In Absentia 3
Questions
I hear her voice, delicate, distant.
I run to the sound, jump on the table
in my usual spot by her play thing,
but she isn’t there. He’s there, damn it,
talking away. I can see him, smell him,
I hate him, his other sex perfumes,
but there he is and when he stops talking,
I can hear her voice. I move to his play
thing. A shadow, I can’t make it out,
then her voice again, my whiskers stiffen,
I lean forward and sniff, but no smell,
she has no smell, and scentless, I cannot
sense her, I bristle and she calls me, calls
me by my favorite names, and mews, I mew,
but I can’t smell her, and there’s no sense
of touch … is this the hell all pussy cats
will suffer … shadows on a screen, a haunting
voice, memories shifting and dancing,
no touch, no hugs, no sense of smell …
and nothing solid … just shadows and absence?
The title is a line from one of Nandita’s poems. I thought it was a striking image and would make a great start to a new poem. I told Nandita this and she and I agreed to write a duet together. This is the first time I have written a “duet” with someone else. I hope it won’t be the last … Nandita is a very talented lady and a gifted poet. Click on the following link for her blog. It’s well worth a visit or two or three.
Your face your name
flicker in the candle flame
Your words your voice
burning with grace and poise
bruised clouds on the evening sky
my arid heart awaits your rain
A burst of silver lining before I die
a soothing balm to my aching pain
your shadow on my mind
how can we be so blind
Your name in my heart
beating like a chained beast
curled up like a dog
asleep at your feet
Let your senses awaken
let dreams and reality meet
Spent match this candle
Light another one from my mantle
let love be heartfelt
let the candles melt
rogermoorepoet 