Tuesday, July 29, 2014

It Goes...

: Of Hope II
And so it goes…

Wayward it goes,
Forward it goes,
It goes…

Stumbling it goes,
Hurtling it goes,
It all goes…

And we remain,
Seated in our skins
Picking the remains of the sea from our teeth
Sipping the horizon like it never changes

And humming.
(Originally posted on May 6, 2005; re-posted on July 24, 2006)

2 comments:

katy said...

i love a poem that starts with and. it establishes itself in an instant. the poem knows it's bigger than us, than what we see, and it goes. the poem is so big, it's about some gods drinking up the ocean, watching the little people and cars go like a machine like it goes. and hummming. and who's to say it doesn't keep going from there?

Anonymous said...

“And so it goes…
Wayward it goes,
Forward it goes,”

It did not sweep me off my feet until “Picking the remains of the sea from our teeth/ Sipping the horizon like it never changes,” which I personally thought to be extremely interesting and fertile imagery. The very last sentence did not sweep me off my feet either.

Kisses,
Ton frère Ahmad

Post Scriptum: I had not read Katy's feedback when I had written mine, but I ought to admit that I had not thought of it that way. It is quite interesting, actually!