SPILLWAY

Turn
opening your eyes
swivelling that smile
the lush hope
and the lamps
coming on

I can smell the cedars
through the screened
window
the moths drumming
tension in humming
throb

You are pulling black
shiny vinyl from picture
sleeved albums
and leaning to guide
the needle and arm

draped forward
your bangs free
the swell of breast
cupped in the
cool fabric

There is a hiss and
crackle through the
black foam

you lean back rocking
with tilted head
snapping thin fingers

A train calls in the
wind fed distance of
dark

the bass line and drums
pair off

The thumbtacks holding
the posters are
brass

We are going riding in the
truck
gliding down concession
tunnels through draped
trees

reclaimed dreamland
and the odometer
counts our time

— Esker, Mar 12, 2010

About This Poem

About the Author

Region, Country: north ontario, CAN

Favorite Poets: Klo , .., Ida, .., Rhiannon1010, .., Pleiades, .., Valryianne, .., Ester, .., Stephanie, .., Emina Smajevic, ..., Elefentee, ..., Sommer Lyn, ..., Jasmine, ..., Rula, ...

Critiques

Kailashana

16 years 2 months ago

YES!“A poem is never

YES! "A poem is never finished, only abandoned." ~ Paul Valery

Seren

16 years 2 months ago

Well done Esker … this one

Well done Esker ... this one rolls with the miles Smiles

pleiades

16 years 2 months ago

e…this write is so

e...this write is so evocative your words pull the reader into each scene described i am quite envious of your ability, as a writer, to descibe such fullness, with so few words you use words like a master chef uses salt this engages all the senses... sight,sound,hearing, smell, touch... they are all present in this poem i think that's why i like it so much, it completely engages...and that makes the reader feel what they're reading your last 2 stanzas threw me initially i thought how can they be driving, if they're listening to records? then the light bulb clicked on certain people, places, moments, even scents, can take us on an inner journey... take us away from our everyday we can be anywhere we choose to be i love your writing p.

Esker

16 years 2 months ago

disolution

I realize that seeing and hearing are senses that get over run by me thats why the night was a refuge sitting in the car listening to the radio as a youth or on the rooftop or under the porch listening to the rain on non mosquito season I dont know how to describe the senses This poetry gift only that I read and love its many courses as a geographer loves the trails (Thus the hiking trail Avatar) thank you kindly Esker!

Esker

15 years 11 months ago

was about Beth

we lived at night in the cars or truck (my father had a car and truck I used) Beth and I would drive and talk listening to music together down there is beautfil old pioneer roadways and old pasturelands bridges creeks beaver meadows towering glacial hills and mature forests trees draping over the roadway the moon gleaming through stop the truck for a smoke holding on the each other and listening to the nights stillness or at her home listening to records she was beautiful and I thank her for the peaceful remembrances of those times (1984)