Untitled #7

By On April 13, 2009 · 3 Comments
heart pounding first steps onto the Swinging Bridge, phobias grip with steel bands as tentative foot steps, forward eyes focused as the bridge bounces, singing with each movement, afraid yet compelled swirling burnt sienna waters tumble, foaming over fractured slate and greywacke, panic-stricken leaden legs stall, stomach tightens with shallow breath, confusion blends into the urge to be tumbled and smoothed, erasing what is unwanted or unwelcome, to be overwhelmed, brute force reshaping sharp edges, sluicing off layers of excess and pummeling away all but bedrock.
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  • Rick

    not to mention how much it would hurt.

    sound alike comment – sensations, senses <—change one of these, preferably I want to know which sensations: emotional, physical or both? fingers tingling? legs numb heart pounding, panic tightening your tummy? heh

    • Nil17

      Yes it would hurt but that’s rather the point; to trade one hurt for another.

      Thanks for the feedback. I knew I was not done with this poem but wanted to post it and let it evolve as a live post. I’ll take a second look & better explore those sensations you mentioned.

  • Rick

    now I’m thinking I see another meaning folded into the more obvious. I like the ambiguity of that idea. There MAY more here than I first realized. In the 1st draft, you kept it fully clothed, the fabric not quite transparent. In the 2nd draft, you hiked your skirt and exposed smooth legs. lovely.

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