Poetry
What to do When A Disturbing Yet Intriguing Character Appears
Of course you want to run and scream.
Of course you want to hide.
Don't.
Don't run don't hide don't look away.
There's a razor-beaked bird thieving eggs from a robin's nest,
A dismembered Barbie shouting obscenities,
A grubby and very hungry boy clutching your ankles.
It's ok. They have gifts for you.
Secrets to share and treasures to unearth.
So here's what you do:
Keep a journal by your side always.
Now when a gang of angry marionettes appears
Or a laughing gull starts pecking at your head you'll be prepared.
Don't be afraid or annoyed at them.
Instead, invite them to supper.
Ask some questions.
Usually the birds will speak. Children, not so much.
Don't worry. Ask anyway. Listen carefully. Keep watching.
Now find a blank page in your book,
Pluck the blood-stained feathers from your teeth and stick them in there.
Spit out the broken bones and the wounded hearts,
Collect the oddities and absurdities and everything that makes your skin crawl and
Put them all in your book.
Good. You can keep everything there until you're ready.
Have patience, my friends, patience.
It could be a week but it could be twenty nine years.
One day you'll pick up your book and it will open to some random page, only it isn't random at all.
That lonely and woeful child once so reluctant to speak will have a song for you so joyful you will weep.
All you need to do now is listen.
Of course you want to run and scream.
Of course you want to hide.
Don't.
Don't run don't hide don't look away.
There's a razor-beaked bird thieving eggs from a robin's nest,
A dismembered Barbie shouting obscenities,
A grubby and very hungry boy clutching your ankles.
It's ok. They have gifts for you.
Secrets to share and treasures to unearth.
So here's what you do:
Keep a journal by your side always.
Now when a gang of angry marionettes appears
Or a laughing gull starts pecking at your head you'll be prepared.
Don't be afraid or annoyed at them.
Instead, invite them to supper.
Ask some questions.
Usually the birds will speak. Children, not so much.
Don't worry. Ask anyway. Listen carefully. Keep watching.
Now find a blank page in your book,
Pluck the blood-stained feathers from your teeth and stick them in there.
Spit out the broken bones and the wounded hearts,
Collect the oddities and absurdities and everything that makes your skin crawl and
Put them all in your book.
Good. You can keep everything there until you're ready.
Have patience, my friends, patience.
It could be a week but it could be twenty nine years.
One day you'll pick up your book and it will open to some random page, only it isn't random at all.
That lonely and woeful child once so reluctant to speak will have a song for you so joyful you will weep.
All you need to do now is listen.
The Quiet Keeper
Listen slowly
For the quiet keeper
Stealing secrets and
Sneaking into
Dusty corners
Slipping soul fragments and
Whispered wishes
Under a box of
Rusty nails.
Hold your breath and
Listen slowly
For you,
You are the quiet keeper
Steeling yourself
Guarding your secrets
Sheltering your soul
Go slowly now and
Listen, listen
For the quiet keeper
Listen slowly
For the quiet keeper
Stealing secrets and
Sneaking into
Dusty corners
Slipping soul fragments and
Whispered wishes
Under a box of
Rusty nails.
Hold your breath and
Listen slowly
For you,
You are the quiet keeper
Steeling yourself
Guarding your secrets
Sheltering your soul
Go slowly now and
Listen, listen
For the quiet keeper
Broken
This day broke
Ugly-cold and hard
The feeble light of dawn
Revealing remnants of rage,
Despair.
Any hint of hope
Shredded,
Mutilated.
This day broke
Me nearly in two
I speak to
Not a soul
I just crawl
Inside myself and
Howl
This
Long
Slow
Hollow
Growl
Coiled around
My belly.
I hold it there
Breathless.
Godless.
This day.
Today.
I am broken.
This day broke
Ugly-cold and hard
The feeble light of dawn
Revealing remnants of rage,
Despair.
Any hint of hope
Shredded,
Mutilated.
This day broke
Me nearly in two
I speak to
Not a soul
I just crawl
Inside myself and
Howl
This
Long
Slow
Hollow
Growl
Coiled around
My belly.
I hold it there
Breathless.
Godless.
This day.
Today.
I am broken.
Unmoored
That faint jagged line you thought was the shore
Was claimed long ago by the sky
You have no bearings now
No sure footing and nothing to hold onto
You’re unmoored
Adrift in the fog.
Can you feel that needling under your skin?
That’s fear
Welling up from deep in your belly
Threatening to consume you.
Resist the urge to flail about
Just close your eyes and
Let your mind wander where it will
Under the dusty debris of abandoned dreams
Behind the crumbling walls of angry insults
And into the deep canyons of lives lost.
Just notice these things and let them be
Move on gently without judgment
Notice now, too, the welcoming call of the garden path
Lined with bountiful boughs of lighthearted laughter
And the comforting innocence of a child’s smile.
Can you feel that flutter in your heart?
That’s hope
Encircling you with love and light.
That’s what you hold onto.
You hold on to hope
Secret Losses
Alone
Under barely a moon
I buried my
Secret losses
Next to the tall
Purple Coneflower and
Brazen Yellow Tickseed
Beneath a carpet of
Sweet Alyssum
In the crevice of a
Rock wall I
Tucked tiny slivers of
Unspoken sorrow
Unshed tears
Fall
Like an early snow
And in the
Hushed silence
I wonder
What will grow now,
What will grow?
Alone
Under barely a moon
I buried my
Secret losses
Next to the tall
Purple Coneflower and
Brazen Yellow Tickseed
Beneath a carpet of
Sweet Alyssum
In the crevice of a
Rock wall I
Tucked tiny slivers of
Unspoken sorrow
Unshed tears
Fall
Like an early snow
And in the
Hushed silence
I wonder
What will grow now,
What will grow?
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How to Start When You Can’t Find the Beginning
Wait for a rainy day. A day when you ramble through fog and can’t quite make out the edge of the path When there’s just the slightest hint of a breeze caressing your skin and you imagine it’s a dragonfly kissing your cheek Wait for a day when your heart flutters as you remember a secret embrace, and you’re not sure if it was a dream or what happened yesterday or in a previous life. Wait for that day and be silent. Be still. Listen for the crickets and the bullfrogs in the steamy swamp. Listen for the frantic whir of a hummingbird’s wings. Listen for the soft, plaintive coo of a mourning dove. And when your soul begins to howl and your bones begin to sag under the weight of the honeybees dying and the rainforests burning and the children left homeless and all the pain and sorrow of the world is heaped upon your back, When the burden seems just too much to bear, Lift up your head and open the journal on your lap Let one single tear fall on the blank page and now, Do you see? You’ve begun. ### Leslie Bijoux July 2020 |