Sunday, 10 February 2019

News from nowhere II





You know, it is my job to love the road
as much as loving you. As what’s called home,
wherever that may be – without postcodes
or doorsills, bricks and mortar, steel and chrome,
walls that can hem things in. This elbow room
for neuroses, identity’s fuzzy cloud,
no pillow-talk, sheets of dusty perfume,
solitude, waxing and waning in the crowd.


Years of tarmac taken up to realise,
to give up the yearnings for residual,
to straddle two halves of the same whole.
Home’s the fringe of your lashes, pensive eyes,
patient lids. Home's also this burning fuel.
The slope, the bank, the turn, and the rare pothole.








As in most other years, I'm doing my own version of love poems to mark the month, though I'm not a big believer in V-day. Because love is the biggest deal of all but it is all in the day's work, month in and month out. It is the only work with any kind of job satisfaction guaranteed imo. You don't have to count the miles, you don't have to count the eggs, never mind the chickens, before or after they hatch. Everything, every little thing, counts, and nothing has to be counted. How super awesome is that?

And yeah, I'm getting there, I'm getting there, at my own pace, just like you. Sooner or later, the job will get done. And it just might not be over even then. How awesome too, is that?







12 comments:

  1. I am never sure where 'there' is, but I too am getting there. Slowly.

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    Replies
    1. Me too. One step at a time. With the idea that when I get 'there' I'll know...

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  2. Hari OM
    Pretty awesome, actually! It's like miracles. Folk look for the big flashy event, totally missing the little, daily sparks of incredible... filled with Love with the capital 'ell'! YAM xx

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    1. Agree, capital L but tiny font size - that's why it's easy to overlook. Keeping eyes peeled always so as NOT to miss those sparks...

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  3. I love this poem and the concept of home - a person, a place, a thought, a feeling, or a blink of an eye. I'm always conflicted - home is with my husband in TX, but home is still my childhood home where my dad lives in PA. When he's gone..I'm not sure. the memory shall live on.

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    Replies
    1. Home is not any one thing or place, I think. It's not a point, it's a Venn diagram. This presence of a loved one is home. 'Everyday is a journey, and the journey itself is home' ~ Matsuo Basho.

      Best wishes always for your Dad's good health and his continuing to define home for you.

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  4. Yes,Love Is the biggest deal of all

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  5. Love should be celebrated and practiced every day, not just overboard on Valentine's Day.

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    Replies
    1. Couldn't agree more with that. I'm okay with 'celebrate V-day and thereafter everyday' :)

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  6. If I were to post every love poem and love song I've ever written (even the bad ones), I'm not sure I could fill an entire month's worth of posts. But no one asked me to do that on a day-by-day basis anyway. I liked your poem a lot. It managed to get its point across without devolving into what I call "goo-goo love poetry."

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    1. Ah, but my posting frequency is only 4-5 times a month :) Every love poem you ever wrote? Please do post - I'd read.

      I have a horror of goo-goo love poetry too. Getting the point across without any goo goo is what I aim for in any kind of poetry/writing, I think. Very pleased to know I've succeeded in this instance at least! Thank you.

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