Such Yearnings

I live between the footsteps
my soul trails like
echos in the barren
well
each climb a reckoning
reminder
that I do not dwell

but haze like a ghost
like a shadow drawn
at evenings end
at nights beginning

I remember where the
kisses fell potent and
lingering
fast and hungering

pumped up on the
urgency of times compression
I remember all the places
I had felt this
At the Pacific
watching the fire sun leave
the day

In the Atlantic in the burgundy
mud gathering periwinkles

swimming in the Moose River
the brown silt clay and cold
sweet embrace

and then just you

arriving like November
arriving filling in mystery
with earnest endevour

far far from summers hot
clime
the chilled air
and snowflakes drawing
patterns in your hair

and when the wind arrives
and blows the birch branch
patterns on the wall
from streetlight parade

I will gather my heart
and read these stories
pressed from love
and travel

— Esker, May 29, 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

Seren

16 years ago

Dearest Steven

as those footsteps fall I sigh ... beautiful poetry my friend your writing has been superb of late ... I dont always comment but I always read ... I ran out of superlatives for your poetry an eon ago ... wonderful poem Jayne-Chloe ("Quote:-For every beauty there is an eye somewhere to see it. For every truth there is an ear somewhere to hear it. For every love there is a heart somewhere to receive it.-Ivan Panin")

Esker

16 years ago

diving deeper

I used to love just going for a freedive there were such clear lakes where I travelled log bottoms stone bottoms Jumping off the peirs and collecting all the treasures this is what I do know focus relax and travel deep to write these and write in a flow thats becoming more intuititve with this poetry gift we have thank you Jayne-Chloe Esker

Seren

16 years ago

here in australia you can go

here in australia you can go diving in every environment you would imagine ... I used to dive straight off the beach when I was younger then later deep sea ... there is nothing like that silent world ... its the only place I found pure peace ... under water ... love the water thanks for the memories love JayCee x x ("Quote:-For every beauty there is an eye somewhere to see it. For every truth there is an ear somewhere to hear it. For every love there is a heart somewhere to receive it.-Ivan Panin")

raskin

16 years ago

Life lingers in-between the

Life lingers in-between the steps, I can almost see the stride slow, linger. This has that feel to it, lustrous. The passages with snowflakes and then following up with the birch, brilliant. White to white. I remember your poems more than any other. Thank you for posting your work. raskin

Esker

16 years ago

I am so glad you can make connections with this I miss in write

"white to white" part of the happiness is the birch tree outside my second floor window and my view of the sunset the tall windows and the streetlight beyond the tree and hedge down below the short lawn I used to enjoy walking in groves of these trees and its been years since Ive travelled or camped slept in cars etc I have always marvelled at meeting others who feel like I do think in similar wavelengths this poetry is like a voice all our voices feels like the rain that I love close my eyes and hear the sighing the embrace as the water touchs down

pleiades

16 years ago

perhaps“my soul trails

perhaps "my soul trails like echos in the barren", could read my soul trails like/as an echo, etc i say that because you have soul singular, so i thought echo, singular mentioning the atlantic and the pacific sort of gives this a global feel that i really like...i think it expands this poem, gives it a wideness so well crafted e. reading it, what struck me, was the care taken with the construction it reads as if you had a very clear direction of where you were taking this piece... of how you wanted it to go now, these words may have just fallen from your pen onto paper...buti don't think so it's just so well crafted ........ as for the emotional content, and the effect on the reader, well, e... i have to say, i don't think i've read anything from your pen this beautiful i think this is completely and utterly wonderful from 'i live between the footsteps (terrific opening line btw) to, 'sweet embrace' i was with you all the way LOVE the lines "In the Atlantic in the burgundy mud gathering periwinkles" those 2 deceptively simple lines offer instant imagery that is tangible then, when i read "and then just you" i wasn't expecting the poem to take that turn, that focus... and that focus is completely the right direction for it to have gone masterfully written sense of constrained longing expressed in the latter half of this write your last stanza? quite frankly e, i could lay down in those words and just breathe them in, over and over beautiful. beautiful. beautiful. i cannot find another word more suitable my favourite from you so far p

Esker

15 years 11 months ago

writing the target

the accidental point where two intersecting plots meet in some substantially non existant point im creating that "feeling" "place" "atmosphere" its an artists will I feel What am I thinking? its not that its who am I writing and do they even exists I think they do and if they dont then its just my dreams that torment me to write the anxiety of the world to see me downtown I am smiling I look at ease but closely and you will see my hands trembling at coffee so careful I try to be to not be unhinged trying to look normal but I know Im not writing poetry crafting worlds with words LIke those people with minatures like set building painting Im never meant to meet the target but I write for this is my passion this is the result of my life

Tonya

16 years ago

This is the poetry

I love so much and enjoy reading! Thanks, I needed this today. It warmed my heart and made me smile with dreamy thoughts. Always, Tonya