Wednesday, December 8, 2010

My First Video Post

Fishing for Fire

Lying in bed, I stared through your sleeping eyes,
wondering if soft blankets and words were enough to live,
whether shivering together would bring heat or just friction;
my cool fingers drew slow circles around your mouth,
but I could not feel or imitate the warmth escaping your lips—
freezing alone is not the same as freezing alone together.
I left that night as dreams of sailing beautiful oceans
turned into a painting of two children slipping over ice,
and like an ambitious autumn breeze catching the spring,
the unnatural season began to pour through my veins.
Soon, dead leaves fell like snow beneath my skin,
and covered the water I had saved for the ensuing sun,
lucid water that had promised to grow green futures.
I ate fire, drank fire, and smoked fire,
but nothing seemed to heat the frigid lake of leaves
as it grew slower and sharper beneath my skin,
pushing to break and speak out against the season.
Fragile and barefooted I wandered carelessly that night
searching for a reflection of my inverted world,
a mirror to talk to or simply a tongue to place down my throat,
anything to forget the potential burden of breaking alone.
...I found it, eventually, before the sun had begun to rise
at the edge of a night littered in matches and clothes;
it was in a pond, nearly placid, reflecting in the moon,
shivering alone with no one to see or break the surface.
I knelt down to touch and gaze beneath sleepy ripples,
and I saw beautiful flames sailing within the waves,
hiding their light beneath dead floating leaves.
That night, I decided to go fishing for my fire.
I dove head first into life's cool essence of darkness,
chasing scattered flames like old summer dreams,
and I watched the sun rise as we thawed alone and together.


Peter Greene said...

Lovely piece. I quite liked 'the unnatural season began to pour through my veins.' I quite liked the whole image structure, actually - the lake of leaves beneath which hidden fire lies - love it, very conducive to visuals, be they abstract or memories of sun on cold bog pond water. Good on you for having the courage to jump out here - I generally have to pretend nobody can see me, before I read to the little horrid camera.

Thanks -


Jenny said...

Great poem and reading, Jeremy! Suggestive and powerful. The imagery is excellent.

Chris said...

This is really cool! I never thought about doing something like this, but it's a pretty great idea! I really love the poem, and hearing the author read it was also incredibly cool. One suggestion is to perhaps be a little bit more dramatic in your reading, but then again, that's really a personal style thing, and I'm probably only suggesting that because I am super over the top dramatic haha.

Jeremy Blomberg said...

thanks for the comments. it was a little weird to watch and hear myself read my poetry, but hopefully as i continue to record i will become more confident as a reader and continue to progress as a poet...i look forward to hearing from more readers

jbkrost said...

Nice work, I'm an avid fly fisherman... I apperciate the duel meanings. Yeah it does get cold!
Hope you caught what you were fishing for.