“Ruega por El” The Sunday Whirl #150

Our day
decamps dangerous,
on rushed sand’s
where I insert the book,
leaving you behind.

It’s too late for
mythological lovers,
who sit by riverbeds.

Six locusts meet me in a field
hauling paper to my wilderness;
they say “Runway to your formalist
beams of double wooden-mouth roses.”

Our iteration love is carbon;
littering language, moving uncertain,
while my tongue awaits
this vice lover, through fate’s
lifeline flesh there’s mercy.

This is my way through
the present,
my list’s:
a lie,
a coax with
shooting eyes
from dark pursers.

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16 responses to ““Ruega por El” The Sunday Whirl #150

  1. This is an amazing piece!

  2. Wow. Praying for it….the opening stanza especially knocked me over. Rushing sands and carbon iterations of love. Beautiful write, Pamela.

  3. Reality is as uncomfortable and biting as those locusts..and yet there is still beauty, remembrance a way to keep going step by aching step..outwitting those dark pursers

  4. It’s too late for
    mythological lovers,
    who sit by riverbeds.
    I was hoping there were a few still around.

  5. Love this, in particular:
    “Our iteration love is carbon;
    littering language, moving uncertain”

  6. ha. i like the locusts that visit you
    and what an interesting message they have as well..
    and sometimes it is whatever it takes to get through.

    • Brian, I am having a difficult time with getting through this. At the moment I am surrounded by a lot of death. I am feeling disconnected. As if, I have awoken to live a bad dream.

  7. Your words are dark indeed Pamela.. locusts are rarely good, but yours are downright menacing…

  8. You’ve poured everything of yourself and your reality into this, Pamela. Ruega por nosotros….(not sure if I remembered it right).

  9. Yes, ruega por el is pray for him, or in the case of nosotros, it is pray for us. Thanks, Victoria.

  10. I for one, don’t care what the locusts say, they are a mean(and ugly) bunch that feed on the nurture and breath of what is living. Yes, this is painful to read Pamela, but it is so real and so beautiful. You and your words are giving nurture and breath to all that is living. My hope is that you never stop,

    Elizabeth

    http://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/2014/03/01/first-day-of-the-month-10110/

  11. magicalmysticalteacher

    I like the startling image of six locusts meeting the speaker in a field. If I were in her shoes, I’m not sure what I’d do, but, being the curious sort, I’d probably ask a question or two! ;)

  12. It is not often you get advice from such generous locusts. How often have I rued forgetting a notebook when out and about.

  13. ” moving uncertain,
    while my tongue awaits
    this vice lover, through fate’s
    lifeline flesh there’s mercy.”
    These lines feel like they come straight from your heart. Hopefully mercy will come with time while the tongue continues to find words to ease the vice lover’s pain.

  14. Good to see you writing pamela, and even more so, at such a high level–it is a way to leave your footprints through this difficult time that will change and change again in your mind. I especially like the way this seems to work up to and from the middle (3rd) stanza, which is exquisite.

  15. If there’s beauty in devastation, I felt it.

I appreciate all comments.

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