I hope that the line about pillows is clear. It refers to breath, to lungs. Also, white blood cells -- to fight off invaders, right? So I need to think this further through. I think it works.
Cells of Ivory
I lost my voice for 20 years.
One day, it cleared its throat
saying "here I am.”
I squawked, “but I don't know you.
“Not so,” it replied.
“I've been swirling in sumptuous
liquid fine as aged wine,
luxuriated in cells of ivory,
and lounged in pillows of
accordian breezes.”
When I lost my voice,
I was bereft,
and began speaking with paint,
or in melodies married to
sweet sad harmonies,
in poems ripe with
poppy and rose,
in photographs of fallen stars,
in dance steps set
to Cohen songs.
I said, “Go away - I'm happier now."
No sound came, so I dipped a brush
into red like kisses, skimmed the piano's
wide satiny smile, conjured up three
purple words, and put my best toe forward.
All creative persons can relate to this write! Sometimes we do lose our voice. But the mind and body are self-balancing organisms and we find that we can express it through other means. Metaphor and meaning sublime. I love this write, Julie!
Hi Julie, When I read this, I hear "everyone just shut up and leave me alone so I can create", even if it is just to the voices in my head. And sadness, too, that seems to compel creativity. Thank you for sharing this...
Works? This poem sings with life and love and passion. It touches the imagination and the heart of the reader...need I say more, can I say more?
Bravo
hugs
Fee
(Self-published. Please contact author directly to order.)
Enter the pages of diaspora in quiet introspection. Bathe your thoughts with subtle humor; synchronize your spirit-sense with history-in-heat; fall headlong with eyes wide open into
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In Spirit,
Bear
Bravo
hugs
Fee
EDWIN