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Towards The Future
All Rights Reserved (C) Anna
This constant ache
is my body's message to me.
"Hello. Hello. Hello.
You're getting there", it says,
"step by step".
Legs aren't stars
which sputter out
& go on gleaming anyway
I've lived with
phantom limbs
but this fracture
dosen't point to
amputation. No.
It hisses something
much more final.
Skin lantern,
necklace of teeth,
the bones & sinews
are in revolt against us.
We keep them down
with little bribes:
vitamins, drugs
& now these pounds of plaster,
but they will bury us,
good bolsheviks,
& know it.
So they've got time to bide.
Meanwhile: spread-eagled
on these crutches, a cripple
sucking the ground with rubber
nipples, or else a knight,
up to my ass in armor,
I limp & swing my way
across the street
& up the steps,
moving, here & now,
step by step,
towards my rebirth,
towards the future.
(C) Anna
Tema Fredag
Monochrome Weekend
is my body's message to me.
"Hello. Hello. Hello.
You're getting there", it says,
"step by step".
Legs aren't stars
which sputter out
& go on gleaming anyway
I've lived with
phantom limbs
but this fracture
dosen't point to
amputation. No.
It hisses something
much more final.
Skin lantern,
necklace of teeth,
the bones & sinews
are in revolt against us.
We keep them down
with little bribes:
vitamins, drugs
& now these pounds of plaster,
but they will bury us,
good bolsheviks,
& know it.
So they've got time to bide.
Meanwhile: spread-eagled
on these crutches, a cripple
sucking the ground with rubber
nipples, or else a knight,
up to my ass in armor,
I limp & swing my way
across the street
& up the steps,
moving, here & now,
step by step,
towards my rebirth,
towards the future.
(C) Anna
Tema Fredag
Monochrome Weekend
My He-Man
Photo By AnnaClick to enlarge the picture
Sailing into your chest,
the white ship of my body
parts
the sun-struck water
of your skin
You are the firehose
on my burning deck,
the radar,
in my fog,
the compass
in my starless night...
You are the prow
of Columbus' ship
kissing the lip
of the new world
(C) Anna
Monday Poetry Train
the white ship of my body
parts
the sun-struck water
of your skin
You are the firehose
on my burning deck,
the radar,
in my fog,
the compass
in my starless night...
You are the prow
of Columbus' ship
kissing the lip
of the new world
(C) Anna
Monday Poetry Train
Reconquering The Woods..
Photo By AnnaClick to enlarge the picture
Reconquering The Woods...
Together
WTFDC
Now Begins With You
Photo By AnnaClick to enlarge the picture
The walls are lined with remembered kisses
warm as your belly against mine,
deep as your navel leading home,
making memories of the future,
straightening out my crocked past,
teaching me to live in the present present tense
with the past perfect and the uncertain future
suddenly certain for certain
Now begins & begins again
with you, with you, with you
(C) Anna
Monday Poetry Train
warm as your belly against mine,
deep as your navel leading home,
making memories of the future,
straightening out my crocked past,
teaching me to live in the present present tense
with the past perfect and the uncertain future
suddenly certain for certain
Now begins & begins again
with you, with you, with you
(C) Anna
Monday Poetry Train
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