My Body’s Work

When my body
finally gives in
to what it’s been
lusting for,
it will marry
the airy
voice of gravity

And gravity
will be my lover,
and my body
will be my friend;
finally able
to nourish more than
cell facsimiles

And my lover
will be hungry
for the soft under-
belly of life,
wherein no lies dare
to lie amongst the
fair fallen

And my body will do
its most serious work
trading flesh for
poems, soft
and voluptuous;
no longer declared
frivolous weight

for Real Toads

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45 thoughts on “My Body’s Work

  1. Well, I think I will be cremated! But even ash may have a soft underbelly and provide nourishment. Wonderful word play here and transcendent attitude. Thanks, Angie. (It is inspired.) k.

      1. Ah. I think it was “finally” that influenced me, and I think the body could be said to lust for decay! Ha. But thankfully, also, regeneration. K.

  2. This has to be one of my favorites of yours–sensuous and also full of real sense in the way happiness, words, purpose, art, love and our souls can combine in a way that seems very magical even as it also seems inevitable–whether fantasy or reality, we are nourished. I especially love the light touch you have with your words–‘..marry the airy…’ and ‘lying among the fair fallen..’ as well as the others quoted above. A great pleasure to read, and a lot of truth in its lines, which increase the pleasure, for me anyway. ;_)

  3. “trading flesh for
    poems,”

    Steal-worthy.

    “And my body will do
    its most serious work”

    Well, Angie. Wow. And you have set me musing…

  4. “”When my body finally give/s in” … Very clever.

    I also see “the aery, voice of gravity” … which speaks of mothering/nesting, but also perhaps broken eggs, a lost future. I feel like I’m breaking my eggs every day because I’m not a good enough mother.

    “And gravity
    will be my lover,
    and my body
    will be my friend” … I love this section. It could be embracing defeat/death, or it could be finally feeling brave enough to just jump out of the sky toward ground … maybe you’re the baby bird, learning to fly. Only it’s taken you more time than you would have liked. Better late than never, though.

    “finally able
    to nourish more than” … I really like this too, Momma Bird.

    “And my lover
    will be hungry
    for the soft under” … There’s some “soft thunder” in this as well.

    “And my body will do
    its most serious work” … This makes me think of you getting it on with your favorite poems. 🙂

    “trading flesh for poems oft” … Again, very clever embedding. Like that “frivolous wait.” I guess in love, we should never wait; we never know when gravity might swoop in to take over. Nothing should be “no longer declared.” Say it. And loudly, no matter the outcome. THAT is the energy out of which poetry is birthed, isn’t it?

  5. To “marry/the airy/voice of gravity.” What a wonderfully crafted passage and opportunity. I suppose gravity in earthbound life–in mortal life–is often seen as an enemy. Not so, you convincingly counter. When we have the bonding right, there is positive, intimate existence. We are “no longer” to be considered, or our parts and purposes, “frivolous weight.”

    Thank you!

  6. Ahhhh!! This is just so damn good. I held off reading your poem until I had written my own, and thank goodness for that. I love everything about this – each line speaks directly to the cognitive soul.

  7. You’re just that good, aren’t you? The whole concept of gravity as a lover, and what might result, is inspired and much the poetic, as I like to say. You are the best new (to me, anyway) poet that I have read in at least a couple of years..

    fireblossom

  8. oh angie. fantastic. all the encomiums are due you. elegant, spare yet somehow filled, superb lines and line breaks. I wish I could write like this. ~

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