You live in a tent, I’ve been told. Unease, I think it’s heavensent, to know yourself in a coverfleet house, taking the storm seat in the exposed terrain to wait for the nowheretohide show, that has brought you this far.
When you reach the top Of the mountain, keep climbing Imagine a ladder into the clouds After the wealth of all the sweat You’re climbing for what? Heart Or endurance, ¿flaco o flojo? Scratch Ever closer to the gateway of your self You finally get there. All around it Looks forlorn it took you so long.
I am reading this over and over.
ReplyDeleteheavensent!
ReplyDeletethank you so much, Kerri and Michele!
ReplyDeleteEfi, will you allow me to translate this into French and to read it tomorrow when I'm voicing some "political" poems in a little poetry festival?
ReplyDeleteI'd be honoured, Beatrice! Yes. :)
ReplyDeleteWhen you reach the top
ReplyDeleteOf the mountain, keep climbing
Imagine a ladder into the clouds
After the wealth of all the sweat
You’re climbing for what? Heart
Or endurance, ¿flaco o flojo? Scratch
Ever closer to the gateway of your self
You finally get there. All around it
Looks forlorn it took you so long.
thanks so much for your poem, Rob. Great response!
DeleteSo good, Efi.
ReplyDeleteSuch a powerful, compact poem. Love the use of compound words to add tightness.
ReplyDeleteYes, I was after a tightly strung affect - thanks so much, Nat.
ReplyDelete