poetry diary

I rhyme to see myself, to set the darkness echoing. (Seamus Heaney, from Personal Helicon)

Category: Favourites

Sonnet

I am all of the world today, tonight;
dancing clouds and watching trees, that white rose.
I am your hair, her eyes, his shoes, this light;
spinning girls and laughing boys, beer that flows.
I am in love with me and all of you;
snails that slide, birds that fly, to where they will.
I am these stones, that moss, those stars; you too
are part of me and me of you (sit still!)
So long I sought beyond, outside, above.
So long I felt my voice the only one.
So long I thought I was alone in love.
So long I dreamed I should be moving on.
I was so wrong, the world is not discrete;
we all are one and so am I complete.

Copyright ©2011 Matthew Rhodes

This is a response to wewritepoems prompt 40, to write a Valentine’s Day poem to yourself. It’s also a variation on the theme of my last poem (worldly love) below, or possibly the other way round (I started this one first but finished it second). It’s my second attempt at a sonnet – after Aubade/Feb 1.

Worldly love

I am the world.
Breathe on me,
and let rolling mists gently cup
soft curving turf.

I am the world.
Dream of me,
and feel cliffs dissolve, fade to sands,
fall under surf.

I am the world.
Spin with me,
through sunbeams to see stars break
dust from their hold.

I am the world.
Caress me now
and love me. Stroke me and shake me
till mountains unfold.

© 2011 Matthew Rhodes

A little poem for Valentine’s Day, written late at night in a hotel in London where I’m at a conference.

The possibility of you

Even the possibility of you
is gone now. We dreamt of love together
in the snow. You kissed me. I felt we knew
a secret pathway – each to another,
long lost and sought. Others saw, quietly;
speaking only with their eyes, and smiling.
I liked that. So gently told and softly,
your words flowed, and heart ranged, always yearning.
I was naïve. Ambition cannot stop
unsettled pasts, chasing wakes, catching up,
and unvoiced fears rise at last to the top;
I just wish the end had not been so abrupt.
You have made sure. The possibility
of you, is gone now.

© Matthew Rhodes 2011

Sanctuary

Yellow roses on your shelf,
half-open, dreaming in their vase.
A book, laid as if half read,
and pictures on the wall.

Little things that make me smile.
Fire, warming silence, holding space.
Glass and jug for someone else,
and pebbles on the floor.

Familiar face, familiar place;
your open mind, opening space;
A table bare to fill with tears,
and banishment of fear.

Frames and moments you’ve passed through,
Stacked and wrapped against the wall;
suggesting of a life outside,
and time will come to go.

© Matthew Rhodes 2011

Aubade

Emotions, like autumn leaves wind-stirred, float,
and fall back to cover red-raw earth, soft
with your last breath on my cheek. If you wrote –
just one line, sunlight warming seeds tossed
by your smile to the ground, I would not wait;
new stems would rise to greet the light, partners
in growth and joy; we’d make afresh our fate,
and find new strength and space: who cares who errs?
But maybe it is easier to stop.
Skies are cold and clods strain beneath the frost.
Un-nurtured leaves will drift, decay and drop;
Our chance, that came, and went, was worth the cost.
I wanted so to strive and yearn with you,
But if you won’t, I cannot face the dew.

©2011 Matthew Rhodes

—————

Shared with Poets United May 15 2011

Beyond self..

are others. Waves lapping on untamed shores;
flotsam, current-guided to unknown bays.
Sands shift, pebbles move; waters are kisses:
dissolving as they ebb, turning sand grains.

Leaves brushed by floated breeze, caress air
and fall, embracing earth and boot, water
darkens and stirs – damp rising from the worm
blends into mist and breath, warm against skin.

New feelings, like children born, grow and die
leaving echoes, and strange resonances
in unexpected places. So to you
I will come, beyond self, sincere in love.

© 2011 Matthew Rhodes

Words

I found them almost accidentally,
and on my screen just grey on white –
cold to the touch (I tested this, later)
But as I read my whole soul leapt,
and fire, not snow, flew upwards –
through my chest and arms,
entered my heart (and head too)
swirling, eating, biting – then flowing, settling,
to a complete certainty – completely consumed
by your words, I’m yours. Take me now.

© 2010 Matthew Rhodes

Sometimes, we are friends

Sometimes, I think about you quietly,
And the rustling of the trees is your dress.

Sometimes, I dream of moments together,
And the sunlight on the stonework is your hair.

Sometimes, I reflect on your feelings,
And the scattering stream mirrors your soul.

Sometimes, I recall our conversation,
And the wind is whispering your words.

Sometimes, we are friends,
And the waiters’ eyes say otherwise.

Always, when I am alone,
Memories of you lie so softly on my heart.

© 2010 Matthew Rhodes

Monday morning

Earnest morning on the first train to Marylebone;
Keyboard tapping men at arms, protected by their grey screens. 
Snow outside, still,
And the flat greyness of a foggy day. 

It will be beautiful later, we know,
But for now engagement is discouraged.
Laptops make introversion aggressive;
Intruding on my space. 
And time too: 
The long urge to check for empty mail. 

Twin barns in a passing field
Remind me of other lives – 
Not simpler, but with different rhythms,
And yearnings for peace. 
Clouds still low,
Past Bicester and still another hour to go. 

Medieval furrows pointing north;
Ancient endeavours – arms of different men –
Slowly sink, now, into the landscape,
Extruding gentle sheep. 
The train hums on. 
And on again to London, Monday morning. 

© 2010 Matthew Rhodes

An elegy for patience

We choose between sadnesses,
Sliding softly between the sheets;
Alone again and forever,
With you beside me as always.

I write an elegy for patience.
Yours, and mine. Waiting
For different trains
On the same track, at the same time,
And the same station.
So much in common;
But without hope.

© 2010 Matthew Rhodes