By Joseph Hesch.
I used to march these rooms half the night,
their blackness the only thing holding me
on an eyeless path I traced, hand outstretched,
sweeping for walls that I knew were there
and for barriers that really weren't.
Even counting my steps, I never quite learned
where to stop before the crash,
before the sparks would light up my mind
but never my vision.
Maybe I was searching for you there,
your brilliance still over the horizon,
not measured in lumens, but in heartbeats,
plunked like strings on a violin,
marking time until you found me,
stumbling, mumbling through my jagged nights.
In this darkness you were surer in your steps,
sure my outstretched hand all that time
was there for you to hold.
And now so connected, where might we go?
Are the maps already drawn?
Or will we explore the world
carried by the words we let drift
in streams like ink, running black
to the oceans of other hearts?
*smiles* Beautiful poem, Joe.
ReplyDelete"Or will we explore the world
carried by the words we let drift
in streams like ink, running black
to the oceans of other hearts?"
Eeep... it must be fate :)
That march... I stubbed my toes so many times as I drove forward. My hand never did much for me, never broke my fall or guided me in the right direction but it was there to be caught by a steadier hand, clasped and secure. This is the first I have read this morning. Very appropriate for 3 am. Very much enjoyed. I hope this feeling lingers today.
ReplyDeleteBeth
smiles. can relate to the feeling of stumbling or just walking in the dark, actually it made me think first of walking endless circles trying to get my son to sleep when he was young but that passed, and then finding one surer of their steps to lead me further on into the possibilities of where we could go...
ReplyDeleteYour dream, my life. Nice poem. Like Lumens verses heartbeats. There are so many ways to measure, but the balance is tricky. They don't all carry the same weight.
ReplyDelete"Maybe I was searching for you there,
ReplyDeleteyour brilliance still over the horizon,
not measured in lumens, but in heartbeats,
plunked like strings on a violin,
marking time until you found me,
stumbling, mumbling through my jagged nights."
This. This is beautiful.
Loved the whole thing...beautiful. These lines stuck out in particular:
ReplyDeleteyour brilliance still over the horizon,
not measured in lumens, but in heartbeats,
plunked like strings on a violin,
marking time until you found me,
your brilliance not measured in lumens, but in heartbeats...loved this joe..good when we find someone who brings light into our darkness..
ReplyDelete"not measured in lumens, but in heartbeats,
ReplyDeleteplunked like strings on a violin,
marking time until you found me, "
These lines so poetic... and the ending so much more perfect
great poem joe... every line had a wonderful flow..
ReplyDeleteYep, another stellar effort. Thinking with the heart I think is seeing in the dark. - Brendan
ReplyDeleteThis felt like a wonderful release. Words that lead to understanding. :)
ReplyDeleteWonderful Joe...as always, but deeper and darker and somehow, even more beautiful than the "others" Write on Poet Joe...too late to say you've not been branded!
ReplyDeleteEnjoyed this. As I read it, I could hear the voice of Ted Kooser, which was odd, but I think gave the poem that extra lilt.
ReplyDeleteLovely poem Joe, very thought provoking :-)
ReplyDeleteOr will we explore the world
ReplyDeletecarried by the words we let drift
in streams like ink, running black
to the oceans of other hearts?
This is so beautiful. Yes, your ink ran right into the ocean of my heart over here. I keep thinking of your contrition poem lately and somehow your ink influenced mine today. Here's to a whole new world to explore.
Beautiful so had to comment twice...and it's the first poem I have Plus 1'd on Google Plus.
ReplyDeleteCathartic, affecting, and full of beauty - thank you.
ReplyDeleteVery nice Joe, definitely a beautiful piece. Thanks
ReplyDeleteBeautiful, I flow with your words.
ReplyDeleteI had to wonder if it was the rooms of your home or the rooms of your mind, Joe. You are such a good poet--I look forward to your work.
ReplyDeleteGorgeous - love the layers and images
ReplyDeleteI quite like the immediacy of this, Joe. There's a sure-footedness in the wandering.
ReplyDeleteamazing ending in streams like ink running black this really flows on the paper and can see how the ink would run if gotten wet. Almost reminds me of a old pen and ink set writing these words on the page. Wonderful poem and so well done
ReplyDeletehttp://gatelesspassage.com/2011/10/25/the-groom-of-the-dead-bride/
This reminded me of a relationship that should have been more familiar than it was. I love your voice, Joe. Always a pleasure to read your work.
ReplyDeleteIs your love a writer also then? I adore this. I've always been the leader in the dark. Just look at my shins you'll see I tell the truth.
ReplyDeleteOh! or is your love poetry?
ReplyDeleteA sleep-walk through the world, a yearning light within the dark it seems...a longing, dreaming venture. Which is to say, a deep little piece - and one that plays upon this all too human heart.
ReplyDeleteJoe- So beautiful, romantic. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteVery nice..loved the lines..your brilliance not measured in lumens but heartbeats,, nice write enjoyed it
ReplyDeleteI connected with the simplicity of holding hands...such a significant image of support in a delicate gesture. Lovely write ~ Rose
ReplyDeleteSo much of that blundering in our lives, such a relief to find that hand. Your last line opens the whole poem up. Beautiful work with words, as always.
ReplyDelete