Waiting.
June 18, 2008 at 7:40 pm | Posted in poetry, writing | 22 CommentsTags: poetry, writing
The television is on but one scene
doesn’t seem to connect to the next.
The kitchen is an empty space
though the fridge is full and dinner waits.
Books have words I cannot hear
when you are not here.
I wonder what my arms are for,
why it is I have lips at all.
The dog lies motionless at my feet,
not asleep, just on pause.
His tail is between my legs,
his nose is pointed at the door,
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The Puzzle Box
gingatao, the podcast- An error has occurred; the feed is probably down. Try again later.
- The Australian Poet Laureate
- another quote from Robert Adamson January 31, 2010
- Three Quotes from Robert Adamson October 22, 2009
- The copyright question (2) October 7, 2009
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© P Squires, gingatao, 2007-2010. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Paul Squires and gingatao, with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
'And you have to deal with the terrible karma too.' Paul Squires.
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superfantabulous; this is easily one of my favourites by you; I say ‘one’ of my favourites, of course, because you are constantly good with words all the time; but this is just amazing. Probably also because it’s just that kind of (I can’t define what kind of) poetry which I really like.
Comment by Vaniz— June 18, 2008 #
Oh, Paul, this is not a blog, this is a world — and I could get gloriously lost here!!
I’ve read a few pieces, listened to Tom sing about the piano and just sat, smiling, thinking how much fun I’m going to have here exploring…
Your easeful relationship with words go back a long, long way…exceptional writing!
Mx
Comment by Melana— June 19, 2008 #
existentialism is often defined, debated, dissected… but it’s never been portrayed so simply or eloquently… and to achieve this with only seventy nine words is a feat that Kierkegaard and Nietzsche would have likely found quite compelling…
Comment by Chico Mahalo— June 19, 2008 #
i could just lie here and read you all night long
Comment by aefiel— June 19, 2008 #
Succinct and perfect.
Comment by Z— June 19, 2008 #
I suggest she writes him a list next time she goes out. Women like lists. Things to do… fix that shelf, put out the trash, take the damned dog for a walk (heheh), things like that. She could pin it to the fridge, eh?
Lovely poem, rhyming ease and a poignancy laced with anticipation. Exquisite, as always.
Comment by Mary P— June 19, 2008 #
i agree with aefiel. this poem is wonderful. i keep rereading it. i love it.
Comment by lissa— June 19, 2008 #
I feel the longing in this poem as though you were waiting for some Divine spark to enter and illuminate your room at that instant. Beautifully written, scrumptuous and evocative.
Comment by poseidonsmuse— June 19, 2008 #
i’m jealous. i can’t come up with any comments as good as these.
~sigh~
yum words.
Comment by Lakota— June 19, 2008 #
Amazing, just amazing, you truly have a remarkable way with taking words and crafting their meanings. Great job.
Comment by dfrucci— June 19, 2008 #
Emptiness and anticipation so artistically drawn with images, especially the dog pointing to the door. One of your best.
Comment by writer reading— June 19, 2008 #
don’t know what to say more. you’re so great. what a captivating poem.
waiting.. waiting…
Comment by SuperPAURONG— June 19, 2008 #
i agree with mary p. a honey-do list.
i love the last two lines the best. very clever.
the sounds of some of the words next to each other make almost and oh-so-subtle rhymes which i can also equate with this man’s waiting, the boredom anyway.
its great Pauls
Comment by mrs. sarah OTT.— June 19, 2008 #
Seems you are making soft portraits all your own these days. I love this very much.
I wonder what my arms are for,
why it is I have lips at all. <—–Damn you’re good. I want to steal this..thats how I know it’s good… (grin)
Comment by nectarfizz— June 20, 2008 #
“Books have words I cannot hear” I love that. Evokes such a deep sense of lonliness.
WC
Comment by writerchick— June 20, 2008 #
[…] Scattered Over My Tummy (filthy good prose) – Down in Me .Labors of Love (about talent) – Ward Six .Waiting (poem) – Gingatao .Walter Kirn on Relationships (personal essay) – Elle .The Trouble with my Kind […]
Pingback by fanciful friday I « flyturtlefly.— June 21, 2008 #
Thanks everbody for these lovely comments. I am running out of ways to tell you how valuable they are to me. I spent a long time (25 years) writing in almost complete isolation and often feel overwhelmed by all these compliments. Thanks again.
Comment by Paul— June 21, 2008 #
Paul….this is such a sad piece, but there is a truth to your words, and this is why I adore you.
Comment by Amber— June 22, 2008 #
Excellent, specially the description of the dog
Comment by Crafty Green poet— June 23, 2008 #
utterly wonderful … love the projection here, the mirroring of dog and man … your technique here is incredibly subtle, enigmatic … it holds time still so that reader waits as well …
Comment by Shell— June 23, 2008 #
suspended in love… one of the many mixed woes of waiting… there’s nothin like a doggy to keep you in comfort till the waiting is over… keep writing those great stories… a most enjoyable journey though the land of paul…
Comment by pieceofpie— June 26, 2008 #
In case you did not know..I got the inspiration for the poem I wrote for you from this one. 🙂 It’s most certainly my favorite of all you have done. For the simple greedy reason that it is a portrait poem and it reveals the way you do them compared to the way I do my own..and well, I just like it..quite a lot actually.
Comment by nectarfizz— July 6, 2008 #