water drizzles over slats
onto rocks
iron ivy
crawls over the lamp
I'm tired
of the restriction
of vulnerability, sensitivity,
injury
walking in the warm,
light rain
before the seasonal cold
sets in
I look out through slats
hiding or revealing myself
or you do
rocks become water
that float away
____
Tired of protecting my knees when I dance, I didn't. For a number of weeks. Bending low, I used my knees, experienced the freedom of a fuller movement, bliss. My knees are now so sore I'm on Ibuprofen, which helps reduce the swelling, constantly and a prescription anti-inflammatory, as well as icing them fairly frequently. So this poem, the first I've attempted in what seems like a long time, was triggered by that, tired of the iron ivy on the lamp, not wanting to protect one's sensitivity, and whatever the emotional corollaries are, the rocks are water that float away.
ps I think I have a 'stretched' tendon, that it's just a regular sort of minor injury anyone who participates in sports or dance gets. Not serious and with a bit of pampering it'll heal fine.
But an interesting process in terms of our emotional proclivity for protection of our sensitivities.
[Okay, okay... last night I danced with my jingly silver belly dance belt over a black danskin at Tam Tam like a dervish. Shhhh...]
[No, no. I arrived late, 10:30pm or so, to a dark hot dance studio of drummers after seeing the Tibetan Lhapa documentary, changed into black sweats, danced, realized that there were only a few dancers, some as old as me, and so I put on the belly dance belt and let go, it was fun, I left around 12:30pm, some people thanked me for dancing, said it was beautiful, and walked home by myself, arriving home at maybe 1:30am; this pattern is normal, I go, dance, rarely join the group for food after. Arrive alone, leave alone. Now what that had to do with emotional corollaries, who knows.
It's all connected though, isn't it. :)]
Sheath of feeling. Words groping to touch air.
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knowing nothing about your city, neighborhood, etc., i must remark, nevertheless, that walking for an hour in a city after midnight to get home seems like a very risky decison to me. people who are interested in crimes drive around looking for the open, waiting opportunity to strike. seems to me like you just might be one.
ReplyDeletebe careful and safe.
Dear Sky, Perhaps Canadian cities are a little safer than American ones? I lived in the downtown neighbourhood where I am now as a graduate student many years ago and sometimes found myself coming home in the darkest hours and never had a problem. I'm quite close to main roads. Mugging could happen anywhere, & there certainly are parts of Toronto I would never walk alone at night in, but those kinds of crimes are not usual in this part of the city, which has quite a vibrant night-life since it's close to a university campus. The kinds of worries you speak of rarely cross my mind, but again it may be that we live in different countries with different overall crime rates. I do lock my door, though I know people who never ever do. Walking home after dancing is something I love doing... there's a perfect warmth to the world you're moving on foot through the darkness.
ReplyDeleteThanks for your concern, I appreciate, and of course hope nothing untoward ever happens.
xo