Saturday, April 18, 2015

NaPoWriMo - day eighteen


all of me loves all of you

most of me loves most of you

some of me loves some of you

perhaps we might invent a new way
of measuring love. what scale
would we devise? we could
weigh all the words: forever,
undying, fealty, mine, yours.
we could test their health,
poke and prod them until they cry out,
until they carry their bruises with pride,
until their repetition tattoos your skin
with promises. we could document
the process – the causes and symptoms –
and track your progress
one word at a time. perhaps
we might find a cure
for all that ails us, for all that
makes us heartsick
and lovelorn. no more
wandering the empty halls
afraid of infection,
letting the words insert themselves,
measuring the distance
between embraces.

A Parable by Gregory Orr - NPM18

The stone strikes the body, because
that is what stones will do.
The wound opens after the stone's kiss,
too late to swallow the stone.
The wound and the stone become lovers.
The wound owes its life to the stone
and sings the stone's praises.
The stone is moved. At the stone's center,
a red hollow aches to touch the wound.
The gray walls of its body tear open
and the wound enters to dwell there.
A strangers picks up the stone
with the wound inside and carries it
with him until he dies.
Orr, Gregory "A Parable" Burning the Empty Nests. Pittsburgh: Carnegie Mellon University Press, 1997. 70.