Saturday, March 22, 2008

Ouija: A Saturday Poem


So I turned to a road atlas, in lieu of your
Vanilla limbs. My finger along interstates
Ran and I said, These are her veins.
In blue, lakes and rivers showed their wet
Spots and again, my fingers, searching,

Where is a park, where we can hide away?
I’m not familiar, I complained, and just then
I felt, Ouija-like, an assistance.
Here. Follow me, and
I followed, sleep-walking but never more
Awake. Here, further a bit.

You and I were in Green River.
I said I am a stranger here.
I asked, Those geese, are they always
So loud?
No, you said.
Only when they are confused, or

© Ciprianowords Inc. 2008


Shark said...

I'm usually hyper-critical of poetry, but this is f-in' awesome.

Jeane said...

I like that. It made me think of all the times I've pulled out a map after moving to a new place, looking for a green splotch that signifies "park", destination for one toddler.

May said...

Wonderful. It deserves publication.

cipriano said...

Thank you, one and all.
Thank you, dear readers.
It is an awesome feeling to have you read my poems and appreciate them.

Anonymous said...

I'm with may. This is one of the most freshly imaged poems I have ever seen. I love the subtlety of the entire poem.

In Edward Lueder's "Your Poem, Man" he advises making "wild connections" in order to make the reader see things in a fresh way. He says that "nothing really happens" in a poem "unless there's one thing seen / suddenly against another--a parsnip
sprouting for a President, or/ hailstones melting in an ashtray..."
And concludes, "Tell it like it never really was,
man,/ and maybe we can see it / like it is."

You often do this wonderful, surprising, yet somehow apt, connection.

Love your blog.

-- Emma

cipriano said...

Thank you so much, Emma.
I am at an Internet cafe, and I', about to post a very unfortunate blog!

stefanie said...

Cip, love the poem! Fantastic map/body imagery.

cipriano said...

Thank you Stefanie.
[Can I borrow your computer for a little while?]

Beth said...