This was a poem that I did not know I had inside of me. I was quite surprised when it appeared on the page. Some poems are like that. They appear without much thought or effort. Bam! There they are. Others take time and thought and planning. You need to chew them over and over. Rework and rework and they never really feel right.
I was casually browsing the internet this evening. Nothing in particular on my mind. I thought I would revisit poets who have greatly inspired me, comforted me, delighted me.
One of whom is Rives. He is an excellent spoken word poet, which caught my particular interest. But he has many achievements in other fields as well. This evening, I listed to an old favorite poem that he presented at a TED conference some time ago. The video is below. It is titled 'If I controlled the internet.'
So I watched that. Enjoyed it as always, and then wandered over to visit another fantastic poet: Anis Mojgani. His way with words is awe inspiring. His grace and poise is beautiful. I only wish I could craft words like that one day and carry them off with such grace and ease.
I make it a habit of checking Anis's blog. Today he posted the image below and the text "I want, for when one might need the sound of someone pouring buttons from one jar into another. A silence similar to constellations. The voice you most wish to hear at that moment." (By the way, here is the link to Anis's blog: http://www.thepianofarm.com/)
These two poems together inspired a poem of my own. It flowed onto the page with a surprising amount of ease. I enjoyed the unexpected lack of effort in writing it, when sometimes writing can be a battle. Without further ado, delay, etc. Here is a new poem:
there it was
in a dimly lit hallway
you'd walked past there more than a dozen times
maybe even a hundred
but never really noticed it
tucked away into a corner
an old fashioned
what used to be a bright red
but has now faded away
from use and abuse
into a dirty, worn out maroon
the label on the handle is peeling off
it says EMERGENCY
no rhyme or reason to what particular emergency it could be for
you carefully reach out and lift it to your ear despite having no emergency at hand
the results are never the same for any two people
this carefully hidden phone
it gives you precisely what you need
the voice of the very person that you needed to hear right then
in that moment
they cannot hear you
they cannot talk back
but they tell you
“I love you. I miss you. Now get back to living life. Studying books. Raising children. And Kissing Slow.”
Then hang up.
Silence. the kind with a capital S.
the kind that sits heavy on your heart
where you are both soothed and ache at the same time.
that heartbreak of home and not home
here and not here
all at once
you wish you could hear it again
but it only works the one time
the next time you walk down that hall
the phone is gone
but the ache is still there