Sunday, August 4, 2013

Come Upon Me



Come upon me by chance
almost touch me.
Inhale my smile.
Save my scarf in a jam jar.

Write me a sonnet
read it in dove sounds.
Never ask me to sing it
I may crack on the high notes.

Promise to keep my grave
scrub the stone with a little brush.
Pick me some leaves.
Bring me pastrami on rye.

Trace the shape of my hand.
Memorize each fingertip.
Take care with the ring finger
it is the weakest.


tk/August 2013


Thank you to R.A.D. Stainforth for preserving my words with voice. (He's not really asleep here...)


Drawing Hands, 1948 by M. C. Escher



38 comments:

  1. gave me shivers......beautiful Tess..xx

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  2. "Take care with the ring finger ―it is the weakest" --- ah, love the turn in this Tess...
    "Write me a sonnet ―read it in dove sounds" --- another fave lines... i know you knew it already but i'd still like to say what a superb gift you have... aww... smiles...

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  3. Wonderful. Love how each line is almost unpredictable and comfortable once discovered when beginning to tackling the next.

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    1. Anthony, thank you...that's exactly what I strive for in a poem...

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  4. I agree with Anthony ... my first reaction was each line in this beautiful poem stood (strongly) on its own, punctuation brilliant.

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  5. The line "save my scarf in a jam jar" is the one which is destined to stay with me for a long time. Beautiful imagery, Tess.

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  6. Exquisite... each and every line... but the last one especially.

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  7. Ah, the ring finger is the weakest. Very beautiful.

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  8. "Bring me pastrami on rye." Now, there's my type of gravesite! With a touch of Russian dressing, if I may make the suggestion.

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  9. Write me a sonnet ―

    read it in dove sounds.

    Those and the ring finger lines are my favourites.

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  10. Beautiful...I will be smiling over "save my scarf in a jam jar" for weeks!

    Kim

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  11. Everyone give Tess a hand for this silken loveliness !

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  12. How, how, do you write these? Poem after poem after poem. I love coming here to read and listen --

    "save my scarf in a jam jar" -- that is stunning

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  13. Beautiful images, the ring finger! Brilliant!

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  14. Beautiful, a death mask of the hand came to mind at the end.

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  15. A necklace of images adorns your post...

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  16. Some scary moments but beautiful imagery Tess!

    Hank

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  17. There isn't a line that I don't adore!

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  18. love the sweet jam and dark, friendly grave. your imagery kept so hooked, feeding from one line to the next...

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  19. Oh wow that last line so true! Love makes us so vulnerable, gorgeous Tess

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  20. Very well done! May your ring finger be strengthened.

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  21. A startling collection of images here.

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  22. Always a pleasure to visit you blog.

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  23. Hey Tess...I loved listening to this (as always) but didn't like looking at his nose hairs while I watched the video. I had to look away and just listen most times.

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  24. Tess,

    write me a sonnet read it in dove sounds..beautifully written..

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  25. Beautiful Tess, dreamily beautiful.
    Anna :o]

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  26. This is beautiful and mushy.

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  27. divine poem Tess- I especially like the last four lines- wonderful!

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  28. True love... and her smell will linger long in the tightly sealed jam jar. A very "adoring" poem.

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  29. perfectly written! so beautiful!

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  30. I liked the almost playful tone and the images you evoked. The last line is exquisite. :-)

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  31. These are two of the best lines everever:
    Write me a sonnet ―
    read it in dove sounds.


    And that last stanza made me sigh. What a wonderful poem, Tess.

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  32. Adore every word in this one Tess....right down to the stunning ending.....so true to the human heart and soul.....we all want to matter and be touched by another soul now and in the after.....everytime I read one of your poems I feel like it is a new favorite....each new one always touches me more than the last. :-)

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  33. Oh Tess ... this is the wish of everyone who has a lover ... the sandwich type may change, but the rest rings true ... so well done ... big hug on this one!

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Inject a few raisins of conversation into the tasteless dough of existence.
― O. Henry (and me)