There were handfuls of cotton falling from Karen's Mouth

theskyabovetheskyabove Posts: 77
edited November 2007 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
There were handfuls of cotton falling from Karen's mouth,
the last time she tried to speak. She blubbed out some words
between the fluff and the seed, and all at once,
I was deep beneath the weight of nearly nothing at all.

Sensory deprived. More stupid than when she arrived.

Not like the day I climbed my last tree.
The day there were two feet of snow on the ground
in the thick of a Pennsylvania back wood.

On that day, I could hear the snow melt.
I could hear the old trees smile in the wet,
discussing spring among themselves,
having everything trees need.

I had my hands on the bark of my bent tree, and the tree,
without making one sensible sound, lent me its story, telling me
absolute truths using no language at all.

Now, I won't anthropomorphize the tree.
But, Karen is a woman,
trying to be a cotton plant.
Isn't that wierd?
Post edited by Unknown User on

Comments

  • FinsburyParkCarrotsFinsburyParkCarrots Seattle, WA Posts: 12,223
    Yep. :D
  • :d
  • :D...


    i mean
  • followed by bushels of prickly pear cactus fruit
    leaves and the leather sticking to insides
    underneath tonges deep in lust with lame ducks

    fuck, fuck, fuck each and all of them
    assholes beside themselves
  • Ian MIan M Posts: 123
    I like this.

    Trees and plants don't generally speak to me in a language I can understand, but I'm working on my unlearning skills so it's only a matter of time... I've also recently rediscovered the urge to climb and sit in the bigger trees. Being quiet on the lower boughs for a while the other day, I was joined by a woodpecker somewhere high above, but no matter how hard and painfully I strained my neck I couldn't catch sight of him. Oh well.

    Thought I'd share.
  • woodpeckers are very good at hide and seek. i wonder if they're having "fun".
    my interpretation of treespeak is just a very solidly rooted enlightenment, in a buddist kind of way, and the aura that might come off of that.
  • Jeremy1012Jeremy1012 Posts: 7,170
    I REALLY really like this. I'm not entirely sure why but I like it a lot.
    "I remember one night at Muzdalifa with nothing but the sky overhead, I lay awake amid sleeping Muslim brothers and I learned that pilgrims from every land — every colour, and class, and rank; high officials and the beggar alike — all snored in the same language"
  • thank you very much, jeremy1012 :)
  • Jeremy1012Jeremy1012 Posts: 7,170
    thank you very much, jeremy1012 :)
    you're welcome :)
    my favourite line is this - "and all at once,
    I was deep beneath the weight of nearly nothing at all"

    I've certainly felt like that a few times.
    "I remember one night at Muzdalifa with nothing but the sky overhead, I lay awake amid sleeping Muslim brothers and I learned that pilgrims from every land — every colour, and class, and rank; high officials and the beggar alike — all snored in the same language"
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