Every poem is about the weather
internal or out
the weather of birds
the weather of houses
the weathers of your heart
archives and inventory
prayers and invocation
for all the things beyond our control
Do we fall like rain?
spilling
do we spill like that?
at our kernel such tiny suns
burning burning out
everyone is all about the heat
white hot
radiant and golden
Every sense high pressure bumping
up against
our windy voices
our icy silence
Dogs are cloudy
towns are meteorological
lovers are atmospheric
Every poem is about the weather
there isn’t anything else
What a great poem to wake up to, thanks Mikaela!
ReplyDeletelovely thought-provoking poem with a good continued metaphor; but are *all* poems about things beyond our control? perhaps sometimes they are an exploration of whether or not they are beyond our control?
ReplyDeleteis everything beyond our control
Thanks Robbie - that is a good question. The line was cut down from a section which was a bit clearer but clunkier. I think the point I was exploring was that maybe the reason we write poems is simply to give ourselves some feeling of control and if that is the case then every poem is (ipso facto) about things beyond our control the way the weather is.
DeleteI like to write hypothesis poems. like a scientific paper you start with the idea and then set about trying to prove it. It doesn't necessarily follow that I succeeded in proving it or indeed that I agreed with the hypothesis in the first place! Maybe it is the poems themselves that are beyond our control...
you've got *me* pegged on a windy day, Mikaela :)
ReplyDelete