Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Ceasefire

When no one is neglected
but myself
and everyone is satisfied
but myself,
I sometimes call a truce
with myself.

Ceasefire.

Only then do I notice that my thighs
are trembling silk,
and my eyes capture green
in certain light.

But my ardor for me cools
quick as shower wet skin,
and, hair wrapped like a swami,
I can easily crystal future hostilities.

Self and love is an uneasy alliance,
and even temporary tenderness is an art.

I'm no artist, yet.

For Grapeling's Get Listed at Real Toads

14 comments:

Sylvia K said...

Amen, amen!! And even with my MANY years -- still no artist!!

grapeling said...

I'm reading Tolle's "A New Earth" right now, and this pen resonates deeply. A brilliant take, MZ ~

Magaly Guerrero said...

"I can easily crystal future hostiles"

You, dear speaker, are my heroine...

Fireblossom said...

Be nice to yourself. Because i have to beat up anyone who is mean to you.

hedgewitch said...

It's a long journey to understanding love, if one can even ever get there, but I think this poem knows where to start.

Margaret said...

This is so smooth… Love it!

Carrie Van Horn said...

We are all a work in progress when it comes to relationships and the matters of the heart. So give yourself a break. :-)

Sherry Blue Sky said...

WOW! That is woman's eternal dilemma - making sure everyone else's needs are taken care of, ours coming last right up till our very last breath, I do believe. But you are still you, and beautiful, with those green eyes and your long black hair!!!!!! Fantastic writing. Especially "even temporary tenderness is an art." Do become that artist of Self, kiddo. Time flies.

Susan said...

It takes an artist to give us this image of the moment of assent/comppromise/surrender. So beautiful the pride of peaceful truce, and yet it leaves even without the cold shower. Pyrrhic victory.

Grandmother (Mary) said...

…an uneasy alliance but the basis of it all. Maybe the accumulation of many temporary tendernesses.

manicddaily said...

Well, you are certainly an artist at many other things--the self part is difficult (and, honestly, many artists are terribly narcissistic!)

Wonderful compressions here--great small details that tell the story. k.

manicddaily said...

Well, you are certainly an artist at many other things--the self part is difficult (and, honestly, many artists are terribly narcissistic!)

Wonderful compressions here--great small details that tell the story. k.

Kerry O'Connor said...

Self and love is an uneasy alliance,
and even temporary tenderness is an art.

I so understand where this poem comes from, what a battle to put one's needs before those of others when we've been taught that it would be selfishness.

This is a poem to bring me to tears.

Susie Clevenger said...

Yes, that is an uneasy alliance between self and love. Great write!