Saturday, December 9, 2017

I will stand here, patient

I will stand here,
patient, under new trees
that flower over old bones,
and wait for you to come
to me.
I will walk there,
slowly and listen to stories
of last words spoken
to first loves,
as my feet float over them
on my way to you.
Maybe here,
they will whisper to us, 
maybe here, they are laid out
like a xylophone for our feet
to gently play.
Years from this night,
when the rains have gone
and the chimes are still and quiet,
under new blooms those old ghosts
will tell new stories, our story,
and our love will haunt them.
We are everything,
and we have always been.

Tyler Knott Gregson.
For my dear friend C.B.
I found this poem on Instagram 
and thought you might enjoy it. 


José Ramón said...

Un placer pasar por tu blog, Saludos

dianne said...

¡Gracias, querido José, por tus amables palabras! No escribo poesía como lo hice una vez. deseándoles una feliz Navidad!
Dianne. xoxoxo

dianne said...

Hello dear C.B. I hope you stop by soon!
I have put a link here to a piano cover of the song Wonderwall by Oasis. When my two IG friends were in Paris they filmed many of the beautiful places they visited. Near their apartment in Ile Saint-Louis they came upon a young busker who was playing this song on his harp, it was very beautiful to listen to!

Anonymous said...

May I? May I interject?

I had travelled today betwixt Winchester and Chichester and arrived at The Ivy Tree. I touched my tree. No one knows of my tree and never will. And I thought. I thought of colours. And rhymes. And personal, sensitive things.

My breath fogged the air. In balloons of mist. I saw them rise into the freezing air. The sun I saw, descend slowly to the horizon. I reached out with my hand to try to... in vain. The sun continued its relentless descent. Please... I beseeched. But to no avail. Just a few more moments. Please...

I looked down. The sun didn't listen to me. No one listens to me. Never listened to me.

I want you. I realized in an instant. I want you. In an instant. That's what life is all about. Wanting. Yearning. Hungering. Desiring. Innocently, not wantonly.

I... miss, the innocence of my youth. Yet, I desire not to return to it. Its foolishness. Its vainness. No, something more significant, I miss.

A few days ago, I had a dream. So vivid, it was so very vivid. My face was beside anothers. My ear touched hers. You don't understand, I said. Our heads beside each other. Cheeks touching. I do, she said. No, I love you, I said. I really love you. My heart has always loved you, and always will love you, I said. She looked down. Tears welled in her eyes. You fool, I said, did you not know by now? Yes, I knew, she said, I always knew. I stared and stared and stared. She looked down. Our eyes never met. How could they? How could they?

There were tears in my eyes. What else? We placed our cheeks back against each other. Looking somewhere. Feeling a closeness, a bond. Our tears burnt the other. At that instant, that very instant, we knew our love was insurmountable. An unbearableness for all, but us.

You see, it's all very, very simple. Love is always very, very simple. It's not complicated. Or explainable. Literature. Ha, ha, ha. What a joke. Love has nothing, absolutely nothing to do with description, or literature, or singy-songy songs, or poetry. And never, ever has had connection with such mediocre nonsense. Love is to do with feelings, not black and white words. Memories, yes, perhaps.

I yearn. I yearn for the real life. That dream, so very real, to come true. To dive, to swim, to enter, to penetrate, to wade, to wander, to loiter, to ache inside, to still myself, to look, to feel. To cry inside from sheer joy and happiness.

You, of course, understand all this. Since your heart feels real things, unlike most pretenders. My fingers tingle and vibrate from sensation. If you were, an inch closer to me, well, you would swoon, I do declare. Because I would run rivers through you. Of emotions. Of swirling colours. Of gentleness. Again and again, you would faint. You know that Dianne, don't you? You always knew that.

So, let me progress to my film that I again and again trying to begin, or is it complete? When you hear of it, you will know it. Instantly. You will know it. Right behind. Can film really be it near it? Maybe. That is what Kieslowski believed. And I don't doubt for an instant. I know exactly what it is. I knew from the very first instant. So, I better get on with it. I want so much for you to see it. I think you will see it, yet. It's just a matter of time. We have enough of time. I am not worried about that. You'll see it. Just a matter of time.

I must move and get going. No time to waste, dearest Dianne, friend, moj confidante. I must stop pummelling the air and make constructive use of my time. Urgently. Mes amities, C.B.x

Anonymous said...

dianne said...

Dearest C.B., of course you can interject my dear and though you might think differently I do listen to you , I hold onto your every word. In fact reading the beauty of your words today has taken my breath away and I do believe if you should come any closer or touch me the emotion would be so great I would surely swoon and faint! I have never known anyone like you before, your sensitivity, the depth of your feelings and how you express your emotions...I am in awe of your words, I am so blessed to have your friendship, to have you in my life. Yes I do understand and feel your words, they always touch my heart.

You say that you don't want to revisit your youth, well I don't want to go back so far either but I do want some of those lost years back. I would like to return to a time when my physical self looked more like the statue I posted some months back, when I had the beauty of my younger self, when I was vibrant and filled with life. When I wasn't so self conscious of not being perfect. So in that instance love and a relationship can be complicated for me. I am sure you are handsome, even beautiful and could have any beautiful and intelligent woman of your choice, whereas I am heart but just ordinary.

I loved the film clip, so many wonderful kisses but they were staged, I wonder if they felt anything? A real kiss, that closeness, that intimacy, the rush of emotion, that is something else, so beautiful...I wish.

Your beautiful dream, those are the kind that stay with you when you wake, they feel so real and you're so sad and disappointed when you realise it was just a dream.

I do hope I will see your film. I'm sure it will be a film of tender feelings and quiet beauty because you have put so much of yourself into creating the story.

Take care dear one and please return soon!
Much love, Dianne xoxox

dianne said...

Dearest C.B., I should explain and clarify what you have actually said. I feel your beautiful words and if you weren't speaking of the setting sun and wanting it not to disappear then perhaps you have said you wanted me.
Oh how I wanted to feel all you have said today, the closeness of you. How wonderful that would have been some time back to hear those words, to be wanted, loved by you, as I believe I have always loved you, or my idea of you.
Now it is too late, when I am old, tired, broken, scarred and worn down by life, when I am ready to let go...
It was alright for us to share a commitment. You have said many times that I could never make you happy and that is true, I know you would be disappointed. I should not have encouraged you with my poems, sharing my inner thoughts, wanting you to be near me. I was selfish as I could not bear to lose you, to lose contact with you. You have been the one light in my life, to dream of you, to wake to your words in the early morning. The happiness that has warmed my heart all of these years.
Now I have hurt you and that is the one thing I have never wanted to do. I know what you want to feel, to be loved, to lose yourself in the love of someone.
Please forgive me, can you please always be my friend? Because I care and love you, I want you to find someone who is young, vital, who can give you what you need. Not someone like me who is deserve so much more.
Love always, your friend Dianne. xoxo