Saturday, August 08, 2009

A house we barely inhabit

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Places There Are

There are places where water is drawn up delicately from
rock, its tenuous entwine released one finger after the other
until naked sand runs through and time again moves freely.

There are places planes fall from perilous skies, oceans
that give little of it back, the remembrance of such things
strewn as deep mementos kept within a vaster recollection.

There are places we dare to go only with the lights on,
familiar routes through rooms of a house we barely inhabit
but for practical furnishings that belie unseen discomfort.

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There are places we seldom visit, limbs and hearts given
over to purposes not our own, feet whose minds were
beset to trod some journey we dared imagine as ours.

There are places that hold no name, mapless, disencompassed,
defined in shifting borders that cannot be staked or claimed,
places we wander through eyeless and smiling, calling it home.

Joseph Gallo
June 2, 2009


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3 Comments:

Anonymous Bryan parried...

Whether I show up on your doorstep bringing gifts of common joy, or bearing needs of uncommon pain,
I always go away inspired Joseph. Thank you for that...and for giving
me the space to rock in my forlorn chair...
B

August 12, 2009 6:54 AM  
Blogger Kyle parried...

You know, Joseph, this is a good poem. It's strange and not without courage. But I am once again blown away by the images you've chosen to couple it with. You have a way of looking at shapes and shadows that just mystifies me. In a good way.

August 13, 2009 10:53 PM  
Blogger Joseph Gallo parried...

This poem is available as a broadside ready and suitable for framing at $10 each. Image used is the second in this post.

Please leave comment and contact info if interested. :-)

And thanks for the comments, gentlemen. Images are mine. They whisper intent; I listen.

September 07, 2009 11:48 PM  

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