Thread: And Tomorrow I'll Miss You More

You’re at the wrong end
of a telephone line that begins at my mouth.

You’re at the wrong end of a phone line
that dives under the streets of Lincoln

runs beside farmer’s rows quilted into the country,
each square a different textile
each road sign a textual reminder of distance

above houses painted thirty years ago
and not since
antennas dangling off the roofs
like misfired lighting bolts from a god
who hates the Midwest more than I.

You’re at the wrong end of a phone line
that intersects the Continental Divide somewhere.
Because it must.

And where it does I wonder
if there are wildflowers growing where no one sees
if roads avoid it because it’s just too holy
if the air smells more like honey
or more like you.

I wonder if, standing there, I could
see California but not quite your front door.
I wonder if when God has the hiccups
he goes to that spot and sees the view
and listens to our phone conversation
buzzing beneath his feet
and every muscle in his body relaxes.

You’re at the wrong end of a phone line
that joins other phone lines, separates,
then joins again.
Our conversation meets other voices
and passes them unmarred.
Our words are that hard.

You’re at the wrong end of a phone line
that sleeps in the ground with dead men
winding up their spines and past their ears
and broadcasting on channels they can hear
This is life. This is life.
We’re too young to fall asleep.
This is life.

You’re at the wrong end of a phone line
that knows to stop at your ear.
And I know that ear is connected
to a face that is the outward expression
of a soul I’ve grown used to holding.

I’ve held it in springtime in my hammock.
I’ve held it praising God.
I’ve held it in a crowded apartment
full of people who know everything about love.
I’ve held it in the playground and
I’ve held it in the best room
of the worst motel in the Midwest.

Know that when I say “I miss you”
my words have seen the world
in order to get there.

Originally Posted by Achilles

You’re at the wrong end
of a telephone line that begins at my mouth.

You’re at the wrong end of a phone line
that dives under the streets of Lincoln

runs beside farmer’s rows quilted into the country,
each square a different textile
each road sign a textual reminder of distance

above houses painted thirty years ago
and not since
antennas dangling off the roofs
like misfired lighting bolts from a god
who hates the Midwest more than I.

You’re at the wrong end of a phone line
that intersects the Continental Divide somewhere.
Because it must.

And where it does I wonder
if there are wildflowers growing where no one sees
if roads avoid it because it’s just too holy
if the air smells more like honey
or more like you.

I wonder if, standing there, I could
see California but not quite your front door.
I wonder if when God has the hiccups
he goes to that spot and sees the view
and listens to our phone conversation
buzzing beneath his feet
and every muscle in his body relaxes.

You’re at the wrong end of a phone line
that joins other phone lines, separates,
then joins again.
Our conversation meets other voices
and passes them unmarred.
Our words are that hard.

You’re at the wrong end of a phone line
that sleeps in the ground with dead men
winding up their spines and past their ears
and broadcasting on channels they can hear
This is life. This is life.
We’re too young to fall asleep.
This is life.

You’re at the wrong end of a phone line
that knows to stop at your ear.
And I know that ear is connected
to a face that is the outward expression
of a soul I’ve grown used to holding.

I’ve held it in springtime in my hammock.
I’ve held it praising God.
I’ve held it in a crowded apartment
full of people who know everything about love.
I’ve held it in the playground and
I’ve held it in the best room
of the worst motel in the Midwest.

Know that when I say “I miss you”
my words have seen the world
in order to get there.

I try NOT to respond to poetry on my first read. But if the emotional impact is THAT good I can't help myself. At the moment I am sitting here thinking " Damn ! I wish I could write that well "

Like Douglas said " I shall return ! " lol

Oh and by the way... My husband sent me a wonderful poem from Iraq when he was there. " Words, Wide Night " by Duffy. ( totally different images , same sentiment ) Wonderful read if you haven't read it.

And I would stack this up against that one any day

This is a wonderful write, and therefore a great read - Much enjoyed! I love the way you expressed your love in this stanza:
"
You’re at the wrong end of a phone line
that knows to stop at your ear.
And I know that ear is connected
to a face that is the outward expression
of a soul I’ve grown used to holding."

Your write hits home - long distance love... I know it too well!


Enjoyed,

MsL

Achilles, I'm wanting for words to describe your piece. "Brilliant", "Heart aching", "Astute"... all seem trite. And I would be foolish to use them. I feel it's safe to say that if I had inspired such a poem I would be one lucky lady.

Now, that I'm finished with being all "mushy", I'll example a couple parts of the poem which held particular appeal for me.

Imagery. Reminds me of what I saw as a child traveling to the mid-west past the cow fields.

runs beside farmer’s rows quilted into the country,
each square a different textile
each road sign a textual reminder of distance

I smile, thinking of God having the hiccups. Maybe they would tremble the world?
Yet, without separating you and your love...meaning that, for now, he would not destory the telephones! And that "and every muscle in his body relaxes" I will use it. Beautiful.

I wonder if when God has the hiccups
he goes to that spot and sees the view
and listens to our phone conversation
buzzing beneath his feet
and every muscle in his body relaxes.

I certainly look forward to reading more of your work. Thank you for this. Laurie

Wow. That was very touching... It touched my heart, truly it did.

... Just no words to express...

Originally Posted by SilverMoon

I feel it's safe to say that if I had inspired such a poem I would be one lucky lady.

I'll let her know

Thanks for the kind comments, everyone.

cheers

Ben

I can only echo the others here. She is one lucky lady and this is a wonderful tribute to her.

My GOD this makes me miss my boyfriend a lot! This particular part resonates;

"You’re at the wrong end of a phone line
that knows to stop at your ear.
And I know that ear is connected
to a face that is the outward expression
of a soul I’ve grown used to holding."

Quite magnificent in its simplicity. You must show her this!

Very effective use of repetition here, truly compliments as opposed to detracting, which is usually the case. Great job with the imagery, I actually took the journey of that phone line. It's too bad we can't do that, then your distress could easily be quelled. Your lady is very lucky, I would be ecstatic if such a piece was written in my honor. Much enjoyed this fine effort.

Best,
Lisa