simplebooklet thumbnail

of 0

By Amanda MacLean

Poetry


Quiet

We’re here and it’s quiet
Tell me everything you saw
We’re here and it’s quiet
Tell me everything you heard
We’re here and it’s quiet
Tell me, did you ever get to sleep
When you were busy
Hands always at the plough

Busy making conversations with the stars
Busy on a calendar week
Busy dreaming molecules into me

We’re here and it’s quiet
I’ll tell you everything I know
We’re here and it’s quiet
I tell you everything I know
I’ve seen, I know I’ve heard
Will I ever get to sleep
When I’m so busy
Hands always shaking now

Busy stirring protons with my paint stick
Painting an invisible man

Usually

I only let you in when I am suffocating

Usually
I only let you near when the scales are falling
Night is falling on me
Stars are falling
Now I’m calling.

Usually…
There’s something in between the me I’ve made and what’s been traced around her shadow
Thankfully

The sidewalk chalk is washed and there’s a face now floating up from what was hollow
What made me listen to you all those times before?
While watching lime-green sticker-stars above me, lying on the floor


Still

Did you find what you were looking for
It’s still growing on the inside
Little, tiny vines inside an envelope of skin
Did you find what you were looking for
Still itching on the inside
Little, tiny pieces of the tiredness you feel

The rain you watched through the window
The light you saw through the trees
The voice you heard singing sweetly by
Your bedside as you fell asleep
Whispers to you now

Everybody’s still out looking...


Shadow On the 

Wall

Shadow on the wall
Dance a little dance for me
A narrative
A story in the shape of your curved body


Let me write it down
Keep it in my secret book
Just let me write it down
You’ll hear it in a thousand years

Beyond our ancient history
Beyond our yellowed years
Shadow on the wall


I wanted you to part the Red Sea for me just once
And maybe you could make it look like an accident
I followed you till I couldn’t feel the earth below my feet
I floated along as you made tracks in the sand

I wanted to say so much to you
I wanted to say what I thought you wanted everyone to hear
I wanted to do so much for you
I wanted to help you with this awful mess that’s been left
This awful mess that’s just been left behind

I thought you could broadcast our direct line somehow
I thought you knew how to make the waves run forward
You sat and watched me play with the radio dial
You watched me bow in prayer to your satellites

Carry

I carry you with me, Mr. MacLean
In a pocket full of steel-blue pennies and magic rings
Down dusty Wranglers tucked over your snakeskin boots
And I remember what it was like to be carried by you

Kept from a windstorm
Rocked and baked and well-groomed, bloomed and safe
With tender roots, unstretched, unsettled
I was a tender plant

Was there anything more noticeable than you?
You peeled the paint from my windows and dragged me along in the grass
Like a kid with invisible water skis

Now with you here in my pocket
There is nothing less detectable than you, it seems
And there is nothing less believable
Than the way things appear to be to me

I’m carrying you now, Mr. Wisdom
When you were once carrying me



The End