i heard a Fly buzz - when i died - (591)
I heard a Fly buzz - when I died -
The Stillness in the Room
Was like the Stillness in the Air -
Between the Heaves of Storm -
The Eyes around - had wrung them dry -
And Breaths were gathering firm
For that last Onset - when the King
Be witnessed - in the Room -
I willed my Keepsakes - Signed away
What portion of me be
Assignable - and then it was
There interposed a Fly -
With Blue - uncertain - stumbling Buzz -
Between the light - and me -
And then the Windows failed - and then
I could not see to see -
May 7, 2024
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now that i’m free to be myself, who am i?
can’t fly, can’t run, and see how slowly i walk.
well, i think, i can read books.
“what’s that you’re doing?” the green-headed fly shouts as it buzzes past.
i close the book.
well, i can write down words, like these, softly.
“what’s that you’re doing?” whispers the wind, pausing in a heap just outside the window.
give me a little time, i say back to its staring, silver face. it doesn’t happen all of a sudden, you know.
“doesn’t it?” says the wind, and breaks open, releasing distillation of blue iris.
and my heart panics not to be, as i long to be, the empty, waiting, pure, speechless receptacle.
Jul 1, 2024
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because of the last two stanzas….
somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously) her first rose
or if your wish be to close me,i and
my life will shut very beautifully,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands
Jul 1, 2024
"The foolish boy whose foolish dreams
Broke his heart and melted his wings
To see the sun, and feel her warmth,
I will yearn for her, from the bottom of the sea."
- Dominic Odie
Mar 6, 2025
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Feb 7, 2024
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i met a senior couple at a garage sale in FL— one of the sweetest stories i’ve picked up.
they had their first kiss together on his family’s boat at 7 or 8 years old. they grew up together & were always close friends even though they met other lovers & had their own families.
over the years they’d talk on the phone for hours & hours. staying close, harboring looove!
during the pandemic they left their spouses and fell madly in love together, at age 70.
he is rebuilding the boat they had their first kiss on. they’re sailing this year.
Feb 26, 2024
Feb 7, 2024