getting eden

A little meditation on the Fall. And yes, a pun.

Perhaps because autumn is upon us, or because my thoughts veer wildly between ecstatic and something a bit darker, or maybe just because lately I am filled with poetry—it keeps clambering around in my head, trying to get out—but somehow the first two lines of this poem popped into my head, and the rest flowed from there. Ultimately, it became something of a meditation on the Garden of Eden and humankind’s Fall from Grace. It’s rather dark, I’d say, though my spirits are anything but these days. Strange how the mind works. In any case, here’s the poem:

'getting eden'

what difference does
suicide make?
there are no sins
in the big scheme
of things
just spray

beauty fades
and the memory of love
or hate’s veneer
washes off
in the gutters

bubbles and blues
the hard-nugget, 
peach’s-pit pain 
you grip
so hard
your knuckles bruise.

calloused, confused

“no noose is good
noose” babe
someone
told you so
told you how to move

what to learn
how to lose
who to shake

or do you think
we should just stay
in the garden, maybe
make a deal
with the snake?

One of my new goals, as I find myself doing more of the creative writing amidst all the reviews and Wordle posts, is to put together a book of poetry and self-publish it. You can read my poem the fisherman here.

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