Concrete Treasure, The Man Pt. 3

The Man Part Three: Concrete Treasure

1But the truth is
I sprung from the dirt.
  drilling among worm holes
Tunneling towards the air

5I could taste it
Up through my root
Twinkling in my soul
 Content, I lingered in the grime

I remember when I reached
10The oxygen I so dearly yearned for,
How thick and heavy it felt

I was weak
Yet I grew, grew, and grew
Like someone pulling an unending string
15I sprouted
 leafed
And budded

Reaching above my fellows
Shadowed by many more

20I remember the day I bloomed
Watching myself burst
In a color I could not name
Warmth welcomed me
 I lapped it up like a savage dog

25But I am a rose
Identified by self
Perfectly petaled
Protected by thorns and
I am delightfully looked upon
30Youth is of my favor
My stem is full of water
My leaves are vibrant
Not dulled in sage


I remember the day,
35That terrible and long ago day,
When the stem I so proudly
Waved upon, became bent
And broken through

So brutal and abrupt
40At once my stem was
Cut
My livelihood, my goo,
it all came oozing out

Of all the rest
45My pride, my pride
Boasted I was chosen

I remember the gust of wind
That rattled and ripped
Wrinkling all my petals
 50Large, beige, thick masses
They passed me all about
They ruffled, they prodded, they tore
 piece by piece.

In silence I cooperated
55No thorns could help me now
Not much of me was left
Plummeting to the ground
Laid my soul to rest
Released and sent to dry

60What purpose did I have?
A mangled rose
On a concrete slab

I remember then, just
moments before the end
65New mass of beige
Cupped me in among its
Stringy masses

They lifted up my petals
Enforced them so they'd stay
70My stem was placed in water
Refreshment soon revived

So who would want a rose,
So mangled through and through?
I'll never forget the Beige that said


75I do

Toast

I Love My Sister

I love my sister
I love her hair
I love the way she plays her violin
And I love the way she laughs
I love her short body
And her sweet smile
I love the way she hugs
I love my sister dearly





Toast

Today I watch her
Smile in white
As I have done
For much of my life,
Watching not but
Five small feet from
Her bedroom door.
Watching her as she
Fiddled and flitted
Whisked and wandered
Through the years
Thinking that the tips of her
Toes held her as
She delicately
Hung the moon

I love my sister

I love her hair
As I see it flying
Wildly around her
Sleepy face so late
On many Saturday mornings
And primed to perfection
It hung resting along her back
Atop a classy long black shiny dress
On that spring night she
Left, even the birds
Couldn't help but chirp
As she passed

But I never knew how much I needed
The melodies that rang from her room
That lullabyed
Me to sleep
Night after night
Year after year
Until the Paladin
Carried her away and I laid there
Sleepless in my bed
Listening to silence
Night after night
Thinking of how much
I love the way she plays her violin
And I love the way
She laughs when
A moment is so
Hysterical she grips her stomach
Throws her head back
Squinches her eyes
Wrinkles her nose
As her body shakes
With fits of giggles
Reminding me of the joy that
Can only be found in the
Little things in life
True gifts and
Treasures I believe
Are most rare when they are small
So
I love her short body
And her sweet smile
That seems larger
And more captivating
Than life itself
And I love her hugs
Warm and safe
They feel when
A tear stained pillow is not
Enough- a tight embrace
Will do the trick

My comforter
My friend
My model as a grow
My sister,
I love you dearly

The Man Part Two: Dummer Boy

Another date and time
Far before my own
Caught me in my present

The man- was a boy
Almost unnoticeable
He sat gazing at
The stars
Could he see me?
In this time I was nothing but a breeze

He began to flee
I felt compelled to follow
He was quick
I was not
His pace picked up
The pitter of his bare feet
Guided me
Over a vast landscape

I noticed many others
Running too
But he never slowed
Until he neared the
Grand wall
He wound his way
Through the thickness
Of bodies
Bombarded with
Shoves and spits
 And side long glances
He seemed not to notice

They threw extravagant
Gifts
At the walls's gates
They beat against its
Latch
Their shouts were so
Labored
They came out as shrieks
Possibly it was the cold that had turned
Their skin gray

But the boy-
He was easily found
Like a sunflower in wheat-
Held a stone in each hand
He began to tap them
On a stump slung
Around his neck
His lips were tight
And he beat the stump,
With the stones
Rum-BA-bum-bum
He played
Rum-BA-bum-bum
His tiny hands
Became lost in a fit
Of motion- faster and faster
He played- wider and wider
His lips parted
Rum-BA-bum-bum
Rum-BA-bum-bum
He played

Occasionally his flesh
Of his fingers caught
The edge of the stump
And ripped
Rum-BA-bum-bum
He played
Echoing through the
Crowd and releasing
His muscles as they
Too became moved
And his body danced
And his lips were wide
Apart
His voice was ringing
Rum-BA-bum-bum
Rum-BA-bum-bum
He played
The latch
Opened
Rum-BA-bum-bum
He played
And I watched in awe
In the crowd
Rum-BA-bum-bum
He played vigorously
 and danced in

The Man Part One

It wasn't often that I came
And still methodically
I enter once
Every week passing

It's always mid afternoon
Fully in light is the
Day outside this chaos
When I come, my smile
Welcomes itself in-but that is
All, nothing else

A single small girl
Is waiting-together we
Maze our way into the
Orange room with a solid
Round wood table

A miniature hound trails
Behind-the usual symptoms
Until my hand grasp a chair
I'd like to call it mine
It is wood, sturdy

And I see him then
His gruff stature hung in
The next room shadowing a
Running sink

And so we meet
I long to say
But his voice remains
A mystery

The girl nudges my elbow
It is time to begin
Another glance -
The sink was left dripping

20June 12July

The air is faintly cooler now
A hint, nothing but a hint
The heat of summer is fleeting
I fear it
Slipping
I feel it
Doing so-
Passing a mirror- glancing its direction
Resting on the glow
Of bulbs streaming down
Heat waving around
And again I think of summer
The mirror remains
My image fades
Into a crowd of newly familiar people
And Tennessee mountain tops
A tiny room muster with tears and adrenaline fueled
In front of three hundred eyes
Fits and laughers
Of sisterhood
Spanning miles- many miles

Longing and aching
Dart with sight
Swells in my chest
Quivering my lips
The images- I watch them
Moving
Sinking into place
Sculpting the curve of my brow
Rounding
My shoulders
Seeping and sifting
Welcomed by my walls

There I was again

In the mirror
Still looking at summer

Feeling its heat
I felt ready for winter
For the iciest winter

Stepping away-
No mirror needed

Where my finger
Pushed
A hair behind my ear
Everywhere between
My flesh
There was warmth-
There was summer

Answer to the Universal Question

I often think
It is

a
moving hand

an
Ant trudging
Up a creviced tree-
Along the bark
From root to tip
Of the most lighted leaves

an egg
Full of yellow yolk
Housed by fragile walls
Cracked easily
Goo running out-
Still held together as one, stretched
And sliding among
Its pieced house


a
Seagull
A lot lie its brother
Foe and friend
All wild in souring

Perhaps
Most of all

I often think
Rather is not
And can never be solidified
But instead
A gust brought only
By turning
Dusty, wrinkle papers
Bounded by string-
Laced in ink-
Joining may more
Remaining there

Yes, yes that is what it is
I often think

Blink

            -"Saints" crafted by Jimmy Abbegg

Only faces I see- 
Smudge-edged and rough
Warm at their backs
Hung from a woven
Wrought iron fence

Grim eyed and
Waiting, perhaps
Wanting but only
Staring-their flat,
Colorless eyes catch
On mine and we
Do not blink for
The longest of
Time until my eyes collapse
And leak
And must be shut

They do and reopen-
The faces still there-
Etched in coal,
 It seems, though I
 Dare not chase my
Finger along the
Canvases to clarify-
I draw up on my
Toes, they crack
Slightly and I
Watched for the
Faces to react-
They didn't.

Rough ruby lips
Part as my questions
Whisper out
Were you not 
Once alive, be holding 
These expressions with 
Tiny-haired flesh 
Striving muscles pulling 
Against aching bones 
And emotion chasing 
In your blood? 
Did you not once have 
A body 
With hands, feet, rib cage 
And sturdy legs?
I rested against my
Heels again, feeling my own
Body thank me in relief
Glaring, intently, glaring
For the answer-
I turned abruptly
But stopped
Before me were the living
Faces- full body
Breathing, sucking air
Into their pink lungs I felt sure
A soft trimmer, a beat
Found itself in their hearts
Once dead- captured
With brush and ink and
Hung on a wrought iron fence
But now
Glistening, wet eyes- alive
Gazing up at themselves
Remembering, never wishing
To return