carving hearts
DopeBeastie
Posts: 2,513
where all the fish are buried, where trees
come up through the bones that won't rot
you'll find me staring at the ground wondering,
remembering, precisely. selecting which memories to keep
the navajo bury their placenta. my own
mother bubbled at a campfire enough to
make me sick. yet, here I am a hundred years
later lamenting the opalescent, deflated beginning
the cute photograph, the pile of bills, bank
statements, and reciepts. the record of our
companionship in the trash can outside
our old house for sale.
your grandmother dies and I cannot say goodbye
my stepmother dies and you continue to not care
where all the fish are buried, where trees
come up through the bones that won't rot
you'll find me laughing at your ridiculousness
just enough to hide the lie I believed I believed
on the surface, always knowing somewhere deep
inside you weren't even capable, child, new soul by
child, new soul. pathetic opalescent prophets of nothing,
frightened by our own true word
happy birthday to the friends we stole away
happy birthday to us, forgotten, again
where all the fish are buried, where trees
come up through the bones that won't rot
you'll find me carving hearts
initials...
as it were
come up through the bones that won't rot
you'll find me staring at the ground wondering,
remembering, precisely. selecting which memories to keep
the navajo bury their placenta. my own
mother bubbled at a campfire enough to
make me sick. yet, here I am a hundred years
later lamenting the opalescent, deflated beginning
the cute photograph, the pile of bills, bank
statements, and reciepts. the record of our
companionship in the trash can outside
our old house for sale.
your grandmother dies and I cannot say goodbye
my stepmother dies and you continue to not care
where all the fish are buried, where trees
come up through the bones that won't rot
you'll find me laughing at your ridiculousness
just enough to hide the lie I believed I believed
on the surface, always knowing somewhere deep
inside you weren't even capable, child, new soul by
child, new soul. pathetic opalescent prophets of nothing,
frightened by our own true word
happy birthday to the friends we stole away
happy birthday to us, forgotten, again
where all the fish are buried, where trees
come up through the bones that won't rot
you'll find me carving hearts
initials...
as it were
Post edited by Unknown User on
0
Comments
07/17/07
carving hearts
where all the fish are buried, where the tree
comes up through the bones that won't rot
you'll find me staring at the ground wondering,
remembering, precisely. selecting which memories to keep
the navajo bury their placenta. my own
mother bubbled at a campfire enough to
make me sick. yet, here I am a hundred years
later lamenting the opalescent, deflated beginning
the cute photograph, the pile of bills, bank
statements, and receipts. the record of our
companionship in the trash can outside
our old house for sale.
your grandmother dies and I cannot say goodbye
my stepmother dies and you continue to not care
where all the fish are buried, where the tree
comes up through the bones that won't rot
you'll find me laughing at our ridiculousness
just enough to hide the lie I believed I believed
on the surface, always knowing somewhere deep
inside we weren't even capable, child, new soul by
child, new soul. pathetic opalescent prophets of nothing,
frightened by our own true word
happy birthday to the friends we stole away
happy birthday to us, forgotten, again
where all the fish are buried, where the tree
comes up through the bones that won't rot
you'll find me carving hearts
initials...
as it were
there's no time to cry
soon i will be leavin'
look me in the eye
no matter what's in front of me
it's your face that i'll see
Stick them back in, woman.
I didn't know how/why your 'mother bubbled at a campfire enough to make me sick' or where the fish were buried (are they ex-pets in the back garden, because otherwise I'd've thought fish died in water where trees don't generally grow? Or are they prehistoric fish fossilised as chalk? Or are they the discarded remains of some Navajo feast 100 years on?) but I didn't mind cos mystery is fine with me in this context.
Liked the two 'opalescents' as well. Good job
and... i've not been to po-x for a very long time.
(when i talk to publishing poets, they shake their heads when i tell em i write on a pearl jam website. they say they'd never ever consider writing without pen and paper... they think i'm nuts or something! but i say, "fuck a bunch of messy ink and scribbled out shit" i can't be creative with that crap in my way.)
however, i do so appreciate your's and everyone else's like for this piece. thank you all very much for saying so
when you plant a tree, you're supposed to fertilize it... i've heard one good way of doing that is to throw a fish in the hole. i've also heard that some indian tradition is to bury placentae to honor the birth of things in such a way that does not disgrace any part.
i do like this quite a bit
very very nice
i like the tree and bones thingy alot
"Hear me, my chiefs!
I am tired; my heart is
sick and sad. From where
the sun stands I will fight
no more forever."
Chief Joseph - Nez Perce