Sunday, July 24, 2005

Watercolors Under the Rain

(Thanks to Erin, who saw this first, whose work brought me around to writing it.)

To these things
I am not bound--
this wall, this
chair that coughs
out stuffing upon
the carpet, this
kitchen stove
down to a single
burner, this
faded photograph
inside the frame.

To these things
I am not bound--
this shrunken
body too small
to fill the fragile
skin, these trembling
fingers upon the
coffee cup, the
eyes dimmed and
ears gone deaf
in the silence
of slow retreat.

I have gone and I
yet remain, I have
my imagined futures
and treasured past.

I have enough, and
as I walk to the
dusty window, I do
not care what day it is,
or if it is numbered,
or what books say--

There are things I have
known, kind faces turned
now to watercolors under
the rain, but still
far greater than icons
one kneels to or turns
under nervous fingers.

I am already mostly gone,
all important cargo stowed
in holds too deep to ever
be stripped bare.

I am already mostly gone,
and nothing that befalls
my remainder is of any
great consequence.


Mushster said...

Firehawk you've done it again. I love this and although it leaves me feeling a little melancholy, there is also a strange contentment too. A quiet acceptance. (I'm not sure I'm making sense but I know what I mean lol).

Risu said...

Yeah, I got a strangely depressed, but content feeling from reading this.

Sorry I haven't commented in so long, I would normally just be frothing at your brilliance, which I know you must find terribly redundant.

Patrick M. Tracy said...


You got it. You made perfect sense. That feeling was what I went for when writing this one. It was a response to one of Erin's poems on Tangled Gold (sadly, she took it down).


No worrys. Also, none of your comments are ever redundant. I'm always happy to witness any frothing incidents that may come up.


I'm honored by the relation of anything I do to Bladerunner. I suppose the topic is the same...time to die. I think that the less we struggle against intractable objects in our way, the more Zen we become. I'm afraid my flashes of such wisdom aren't terribly long-lasting or common.

Again, thanks to you for coming over and saying kind things.

Mushster said...

Yaay, I made sense :)

I looked for the other one and couldn't find it. Glad to know I'm not going blind lol.

S.L. Corsua said...

Hullo. ^_^ My first time here. And I am promptly in awe. You write ssooo beautifully. Like liquid, your words trickle into every soul-pore I imagine I still have left...

I have much relished reading your poetry that I have taken the liberty of checking out posts from way back April. Hee. ^_^ A prolific writer you are. I am impressed with your choice of words in your pieces (and the line breaks, too). My top 5 faves:

Long Stricture/Skeleton Frames

Emphatic Rigor/Beautiful Embrace

Ineffable Magnetism
(my eyes got misty after reading this... sniff)

These Shocking Days of Mundane Horror

An Injury So Silent

I will certainly be back for more. ^_^ Dream well...

Patrick M. Tracy said...


You do make sense. What happened is that Erin on Tangled Gold had a poem up that sparked my imagination. Before I knew what was happening, I wrote this whole poem as a comment on her site. Sadly, she's been a bit maudlin lately, and tends to pull her stuff down if she suddenly decides she doesn't like it. Glad to hear from you, and I've been enjoying your list of facts about yourself. I'll have to come 'round to commenting more and lurking less.


I'm so pleased that you came over and read through my old stuff. I see by your selection that you like my hard/dark stuff best. I'm honored that a talented poet such as yourself would appreciate my work. As far as line breaks go, I try to get a good balance between rhythm and counter-rhythm, although sometimes it's just a matter of how it looks on the page/screen.

I'd love it if you dropped by anytime. I'll do the same at your (far more elegantly designed) blog.

Again, thanks to everyone who comes by, whether they comment or not.

Bill said...

Very nice piece... I'll admit to having thoughts like these at times...

That when I look back... I realize that nothing much 'tangible' really matters in the long run...

Instead, it's the memories, the love(s) that last, and transcend it all!

Across Inconstant Breath

Would that this skin this frail armor atop the husk of slow departure -  Would that it held against the teeth  of night's maw a...