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No One Sends Me Anything
Moisture beads the little card that fell
As the mailman thrust my bills into the box
Leaving this scene of a beach to brave the storm.
A rip lifts the gloss from the cardboard sands
And the tears flow over sea frozen harder than ice
An echo of waves and time, like a popular song.
On the back, the preprinted text still clings uselessly,
But penned words, sender, address have melted into streams of blue
That flow in drips down to the dirt. No way to unwind
The sense from the drift, reconcentrate intent,
Anonymous dismay drowns what the scribbles meant.
The small blue ocean reclaims the sense
As the sea edits the sand and the shells.
As the mailman thrust my bills into the box
Leaving this scene of a beach to brave the storm.
A rip lifts the gloss from the cardboard sands
And the tears flow over sea frozen harder than ice
An echo of waves and time, like a popular song.
On the back, the preprinted text still clings uselessly,
But penned words, sender, address have melted into streams of blue
That flow in drips down to the dirt. No way to unwind
The sense from the drift, reconcentrate intent,
Anonymous dismay drowns what the scribbles meant.
The small blue ocean reclaims the sense
As the sea edits the sand and the shells.
No greater chaos than appears to be
Within the tumult of the great blue sea
Appears in lesser verse, to good and ill,
Where nonsense noises churn forever still.
Within the tumult of the great blue sea
Appears in lesser verse, to good and ill,
Where nonsense noises churn forever still.
Free verse, so no form to analyze. I get a different feeling from this when I consider that title. On its own, the poem seems to say the recipient is lost in memory and can't (maybe due to the ink smearing from the rain?) or won't internalize what message is on it due to it being painful. But taken with the title, it makes me think the first couple lines refer to the mailman having dropped it accidentally and it was meant for someone else. Nice melancholy mood piece.
>>Pascoite
No One Sends Me Anything
The backing of this one is likely my melancholy sense as I get older of the impermanence of verse, and indeed of the mind. I meant to show that the postman dropped the postcard as it was being put in the mailbox, and thus it was ruined by the rain. What seems to be a pretty shoreline and beach is composed in reality of bits of sand and shell, a billion sea deaths scattered into senseless arrays; this connotation didn't fully make it in and perhaps it's just as well.
No One Sends Me Anything
The backing of this one is likely my melancholy sense as I get older of the impermanence of verse, and indeed of the mind. I meant to show that the postman dropped the postcard as it was being put in the mailbox, and thus it was ruined by the rain. What seems to be a pretty shoreline and beach is composed in reality of bits of sand and shell, a billion sea deaths scattered into senseless arrays; this connotation didn't fully make it in and perhaps it's just as well.