Cloudthings

Jul 01, 2009 ⭐ View statistics (Premium feature)

One tired evening below the glowing Nimbus

Am I radar echo withering?
A shape that fitted mostly where your aching sucked you dry?
Am I disappointment, drenched in hope and longing?
Am I wonderful distraction in my colour burdened life?
The same that seeped (in irony) to wilted pale and wan?
My frisky Irish jig wound down to a shuffle and half turn
Limply gazing, furtive query, fearful of rejection

I forsake the others,
they are lovely trappings I adore,
but you are heart - I thought

What if, despite all the synchronicity,
we are hit and miss between the midnight stroke and dawn?
This first time you denied me, gently... were you sulking?
I worry for a pattern and become
a solitary Selky to my rocky backroom shore
knowing even now this is a story of many possibilities
Some sweeter and some bleak

I will come to you in heart canoe
and shower you in soft gold petals, though weary
Will you feel me my Danea?
I will climb aboard the scent you wear so sweetly
and float into the warmth
But I still fear disturbing you
You who every night with turgid energy and manicured lust
pushed tenderly until the bloom and pollen
met the honey of our sweetness
and pumped laughter through our loving
and breath into our sky to feed the darling nimbus where you draw me

— Cloudthings, Jul 01, 2009

About This Poem

About the Author

Region, Country: Australia, regional Victoria, AUS

Favorite Poets: So many... Rumi, Spike Milligan, Keats. Many of the Neopoet clan, past & present. A myriad of song writers, Dylan, Jackson Browne, Lior, & I must add the poetic influence of painters, sculptors & creators across the world... Life really, especially the sky.

Critiques

Kailashana

16 years 11 months ago

“I will come to you in a

"I will come to you in a heart canoe" Oh, Anni, do you know just how close you are? How perfect your heart, your poetry, the heartbeat of your poetry? ~A "There are very few human beings who receive the truth, complete and staggering, by instant illumination. Most of them acquire it fragment by fragment, on a small scale, by successive developments, cellularly, like a laborious mosaic." Anais Nin

Cloudthings

16 years 11 months ago

You & your beauty pull me further to belief & so sweet love of w

Dearest Anna, I know only in the way you reflect it & you are an exquisite mirror... One of a perfect calm lake surface kissing the image of the moon, the reach of a resting wave scooping up the sunset to carry to the beach.. You & your beauty pull me further to belief & so sweet love of words. Thank you xxx We dont believe in ourselves until someone reveals that deep inside us is valuable, worth listening to, worthy of our trust, sacred to our touch. Once we believe in ourselves we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight or any experience that reveal

Geezer

16 years 11 months ago

Paddling Heart's

Paddlings on the calm back-water drawn to the sky of "Cloudthings"! Heart's canoe seems the perfect vehicle by which to journey. I have floated in both Heart's and Love's canoes. Paddling hard sometimes, and then just drifting. I arrive at my own Love's dock, and glad for the trip. I learn new things about myself and her during the time it takes to get from point to point. It is a never ending, life-long trip, that I am glad to share with the rest of the world, like you. Thank you for having the courage to voice the pleasure and the doubt that marks our journies. As always, Gee.

Cloudthings

16 years 11 months ago

Gee, this is so beautifully written here, you should work it up,

Gee, this is so beautifully written here, you should work it up, I've often wondered what your writing would be like without rhyme... I love what you have written, just lovely Gee. I am so glad you can see the transition of this nocturnal write. Thanks for your companionship through this journey with me. xx Anni We dont believe in ourselves until someone reveals that deep inside us is valuable, worth listening to, worthy of our trust, sacred to our touch. Once we believe in ourselves we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight or any experience that reveal

Geezer

16 years 11 months ago

Working it up.....

I will work it up, as you say. I have been under the weather a bit as of late. I have more projects to work on with Jason, and have to catch up with some other tasks that need immediate attention. I am saving this comment so that I have refrence to work from, and as soon as I have the time I will undertake to make something of it. I have been exceedingly glad to be on this journey of the heart with you. I Have not been disappointed in one step of it. It has been a wonderland of sights and emotions for me. Who knows what things I will encounter? Every turn in the river, each current that propels the canoe of hearts, has it's own delight. Be sure, I have not floated in these canoes for the last time! Gee.

Candlewitch

16 years 11 months ago

Enchantingly Beautiful

So many of us know these feelings of trembling trepidation when facing the intimacy of that special lover. But only you could bring them to light in this unique and artful way. My favorite lines: "Am I wonderful distraction in my colour burdened life?" "I worry for a pattern and become a solitary Selky to my rocky backroom shore" "But I still fear disturbing you You who every night with turgid energy and manicured lust pushed tenderly until the bloom and pollen met the honey of our sweetness and pumped laughter through our loving and breath into our sky to feed the darling nimbus where you draw me" I found the ending to be supurb. Always, Cat

Cloudthings

16 years 11 months ago

thank you, I am surprised this write seems to have touched peopl

Dear Cat, thank you, I am surprised this write seems to have touched people so deeply, it was such a simple discussion between me & the pen at 2 am, my heart & my mind, my fear & my love I guess... Maybe I managed this time to express it in the right way so that other people feel it, since we do all know these wobbles as you say, & the best thing is to allow them to come up so we can free them as I have here. Thanks Cat. Love your comments always Anni xx We dont believe in ourselves until someone reveals that deep inside us is valuable, worth listening to, worthy of our trust, sacred to our touch. Once we believe in ourselves we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight or any experience that reveal

bjp

16 years 11 months ago

Dear Anni,

I am sadly off to remove felled trees so I will write later with elan. Truly a wonder of a poem. Brian

faerybeki

16 years 11 months ago

Anni, this process here is

Anni, this process here is breath taking hon, honest and beautiful, intelligently, expertly crafted, gosh, er, wow, really stunning. :) I'm so happy you write, I agree we writers are lucky to have an outlet for this 'stuff', but I'm happy too for an entirely selfish reason I just relish the reading of you. You are a remarkable woman and an extraordinary poet :) Lucky otter indeed and lucky us! :) Love always Beki xxx Ps LOVE your gum tree pic too babe :) Yay to stone hugging/ tree hugging/ hugging everything really lol. They are such gorgeous trees, so smooth, ever so huggable :) I kept telling my parents 'they (the trees) like it you know' I'm sure they (my mum&dad lol) think I'm crazier than ever (perhaps the trees do too ;)) As ever thanks for sharing here, this place, for me, could not be what it is, if it wasn't for you dear one, more love b xx

Cloudthings

16 years 11 months ago

Thank you for your lovely comments... lucky ME honey, you know

Ah look at you gorgeous girl, I LOVE that picture, I would so instantly adopt you among my precious ones, & you'd love it here, though we'd all make you give up that smoking thing... I have 3 roudy 13 yr old boys having a Star Trek & B movie Sci Fi night, tho the x box, guitar hero, & various other games including monopoly have all had a look in, they're good kids, I love them, most kids in town I've seen grow from bubbies, it's lovely being in one place... Ive settles them in jammies & sleeping bags & the Borg box set, I have chatted to my otter (by Thursday we are both beginning to feel it's too long apart) & I am in bed with Amos Lee (sigh... well not literally) & there you are bright star. Thank you for your lovely comments... lucky ME honey, you know I apreciate you & adore you so much, all of the Neo beings that bring so much to my cyber life. You know I feel the same for you sweet faery xxx Anni We dont believe in ourselves until someone reveals that deep inside us is valuable, worth listening to, worthy of our trust, sacred to our touch. Once we believe in ourselves we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight or any experience that reveal

bjp

16 years 11 months ago

Dear Anni,

What a provocation you now are that sassy little tongue "shuffling" out, foraging complimentary porridge from this other mouth. Your waif days are a bygone time – for your tongue speaks too knowingly of pith, lime, and spills of dill. Shuffle indeed, impertinent one, who can barely lay a toe but land upon some laurel upon a laud atop a tribute founded on acclaim. Wasn’t this laurel not honourary really? Tomorrow, will the lovely words but mark yesterday’s appeal, now forgot? Not tomorrow. Not here. Where courage, and that tongue, are, deservedly, laurel spears. Brian

Cloudthings

16 years 11 months ago

This leaves me very confused Brian

Hi Brian, I admit to being extremely exhausted just now. I wonder how honest I can be with you, this comment feels less like a crit & more like an attempt to deflate me given all the positive feedback above, & I admit it has worked, I wanted to groan when I read it & feel disapointed. My disapointment is more about how you could get what you got from this write when I often feel you see things beyond what I normally expect anyone to see. I feel like you are talking about a different poem, or maybe a different person, or both. Maybe you are tired too? I wrote this after the first tiny wobble I have had with my otter, (ironically it was because he felt uncomfortable about me spending an hour on Neopoet while he was here, my perspective was that I wanted to integrate my love for him & my love for writing & Neo, I thought I was sharing with him, but afterwards he got a little distant for the first time ever & it worried me so I couldn't sleep, I got up & wrote this & The Beating & another which was largely for you in fact, full of the kindness & gratitude you seem to suggest I can no longer express? You confuse me Brian, I feel you set me up to knock me down sometimes, & you're just about the only one who could) it was a process of sorting my own insecurities in response to his, he came out when I had written 3 poems & we sorted it so easily (such a gorgeous relief to be with someone I can do that with)... I wonder why you keep going on about "that tongue" as if I have spat bitter evil & venom? There was no bitterness, just self doubt & a flicker of insecurity that I might have made a mistake, or not be the one or not be good enough to fill the space of my loves dead wife, or that he might be less true of heart than I had thought, but by the end of the write as must be clear I had regained my perspective. In any case, whatever it is you were looking for you will find. Whatever I have to say will probably make no difference, but I am sad. We dont believe in ourselves until someone reveals that deep inside us is valuable, worth listening to, worthy of our trust, sacred to our touch. Once we believe in ourselves we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight or any experience that reveal

bjp

16 years 11 months ago

Dear Anni,

I see no reason for sadness. My poem was meant to tease a little. I do, though, tease infrequently, for I cannot control the response. It is like humour, taken well mostly when expected. Olya thinks I am very funny but then she has always thought I was very funny - partially because she knows I will consent to small embarrassments in company. For you and I, we birthed our "getting to know you"s in some of poetry's choppy waters - the stress of challenge. So, the usual thread for us is seriousness. Anyway, I thought this poem was excellent and said so, initially in an abbreviated fashion. Then went out and hauled felled trees around. Olya left for the city for over night, which causes me to have trouble for the night. I find it takes a day to get used to her absence. So, I wrote letters and poetry in the later night. And my poem was intended as a laud but with teasing. I believe that the normal human condition is to be extraordinarily sensitive. It is the measure of this sensitivity that we build huge ramparts upon our egos, enter the mysterious wonders of rituals, entertain rituals' cousins repetition and compulsion, and seek external validation of who we are. And a Poet, like you or me, tends to be extra virgin sensitive. It is what helps us see the secondary communication in words (And here a long aside: all communication has an overt message and a covert message; it is simply the way of words. The overt can align with the covert or contradict; in the latter case we are in the land of "no win" for an affirmation of the overt will contradict the covert while an affirmation of the covert will contradict the overt. Many parents talk to their children this way. It is designed to disallow any transfer of power to the listener. The nomenclature for this kind of communication is "double-bind". For children in these circumstances, faced with a demand to answer, the available responses are limited: they often cannot refuse to answer; they can try to pretend it is a joke; they might risk telling the speaker to stop; they can rarely chose to "leave the field" for the field is the family home where they are often obliged to live. They can however give an uninterpretable answer or a coded answer. A classic available tool for these latter answers are mixed metaphors, where the required response is set in undecipherable scrambles.) Olya says she and I are never far from schizophrenia, which is itself, more of a metaphorical description than a prognostication. We imagine a curve in the societal sensitive and another for the communicative, where the distance between what behaviors aid and which behaviors hinder are but close dots on a graph. Whenever I read a poem, I try to insert myself in it. That doesn't mean that it was written about me but I treat it as if it were written about me. In other words, I immediately put on my empathy hat and take a full roll in the poem. Subsequently, I will often take myself out of the poem and read it that way too. I especially do both here at neopoet because I will often comment on a poem, and the author is only keystrokes away. The comment needs, typically, to be respectful to both the subjective and the objective. If I am reading a book of poetry, there is no author near by, so I can indulge more lopsidedly in the empathy experience. But where there are special connections, I will not just do analysis. For while analysis is respectful, it is also careful and, as such, rather formal. I treat informality as a symbol of friendship. Thus, you got a teasing poem in response. The tongue symbol is principally a reference to your excellent writing with a touch of nuanced ambiguity. The anxiousness, uncertain Anni in the poem is teased with the physical artifacts of your laurels, constantly arriving to your door. And the poem ends by alluding to your ability, admittedly through the tongue tease, but confirming that your abilities, evidenced by your voice, will stand you in good stead for continued recognition and maintenance of all relationships. Now, I forewarn you that I will tease you again. But I am not going to write too many more books to you to explain that there are very thin reasons to be offended at such a compliment. You are a lovely lovely woman. Accept the laurels as being about you and decide that I esteem you too. For your poem is indeed excellent. Brian

Cloudthings

16 years 11 months ago

an honest reflection on how things that challenge us usually cha

Yes, I hope you might forgive me... Before you even wrote this I began to wonder if it was me looking for the undermining elements within your response... Your comment can indeed be perceived either way & I was victim to my own suggestion, that what I was looking for I found, I suppose... When I read it again I realised... responding in the wee hours around 3 30 am after a previous late one is a foolish thing for me. I felt so deflated, I can see your proverbial wry grin in it now & I feel ashamed at having so little faith. I think it was anxiety born of the response you once wrote & changed... it is true that these days you are one of the few that could really cut me & I suppose in truth that one did even though you withdrew & cleaned it up, I was so relieved you did, & I hold no grudge, but I was left with a deep sadness that you might even go there & feel such things regarding me... Not excusing myself, just giving you the background as to why I reacted this way. I don't know why your opinions seem so important here to me... you may see that clearer than I do, maybe lots of people feel that about you here... Still, in past times I might have folded & disapeared, unable to bare the weight of it & hurt & probably shame, feeling like a failure, so I guess it is a good practice that I know despite feeling like a disapointment I can still hold me head up in the light of integrity & walk on... I am of course hugely buoyed by such sweet good wishes from so many good & worthy folk here, it probably helps... But you walk a different path altogether, rarely met from the same direction, I find you always in the most unexpected places, always where I believe I am most alone (I actually love my solitude... maybe it's the luxury of those who have so many good folk always near at hand... but it wasn't always like that), it is just as well, as I find I need all my focus to assimilate these gifts you bring, & I see how I misread this one, even before your "novel", though I have to say I feel so honoured that you should spend the time explaining & soothing me in that regard... In that way & many others I suspect you are a "lovely, lovely man", I so love the way you care for Olya... I kind of feel an odd ghost of love for her via you & your affection (though I also have so much admiration & respect for her from my own few interactions with her here), it feels so tangible & deep, the sense of the bond between you is so warmly woven through your presence here, it inspires me hugely, I hope to nurture a similar connection of my own, though I believe it is rare. I am so glad you share it with Olya, & that we get to catch the lateral rays of it's lovely corona. As always I do understand & stand by these things you have put down, humbly most of the time, you & I work differently in the world, but for the most part there is overlap on different planes perhaps... It is, I think, about the heart's intent. On many levels I am generous with my heart, but I am beginning to see that trust is more difficult when the depth of connection descends to a deeper level, possibly moreso with men... maybe moreso from a relatively recent searing I am still scarring up from, involving a writer with some ability to create magic with words, clearly I am not healed from it still, now & then I bleed from there & I whince if anything aproaches those spaces of vulnerability where I offered myself up completely & so devastatingly mistakenly. Your skill as a writer transcends most I have been close to personally, well any really, but it still feels reminiscent & dangerous (heh, there is something to be said for Arrow's androgenous presence here, I love it so much... I want to think gender makes no difference, but it does, Arrow slips the nets because of the choice to withold that detail). In any case, as I said, I hope you will forgive my misreading of your response, I can see it in it's much more positive incarnation now & hang my head, sad now for my own lack of grace at the time... I have to chuckle at myself, I am sure I wrote to you recently suggesting we should interpret the story in a more positive light, trusting that we both hold good intent at our centre... Word eating might be in order for me here today. Thank you & I will post the 3rd write of the night (the trio of the post 2am aberation) which largely is written with you in mind, from memory it isn't all petals & rainbows, but it is an honest reflection on how things that challenge us usually change us for the best... your epitaph perhaps! I feel I should do a better job of an Ode to you anyway, since I "sullied" the last for you by rhyming it... my own cheekiness at the fore. With humility & thanks Anni xx We dont believe in ourselves until someone reveals that deep inside us is valuable, worth listening to, worthy of our trust, sacred to our touch. Once we believe in ourselves we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight or any experience that reveal