Tea (Draft 2)

Tea (Draft 2)

When I’ve wandered in the cold,
I’ve always hoped something would
move me like you do with
approval and encouragement tea
always hoped, had sanctified
meanders in the cold with thoughts,
hot dreams of you that carried
your stew in my backpack, filled with
drudge stuff, and your precious memorandear
tucked into the pocket for precious notes like gems
something to hold for incantations against
pebbles in the shoes and stumble stones
on the winding up mountain path

Blue skies and fluff at the mountain top.
In a cloud I see your face and a tea cup.

I hear myself scream and
see the grief of my breath
form wispy puffs that fly away

Winding down
there are birds in the sky
and no stumble stones, but
only the scent of tea up my nose
the feel of a memorandear in my pocket

There is sweetness to the air
your valley is near,
could be I’ll stumble
by your house to leave a note
or ring where I learned that
fresh tea is sweet when brewed
for an occasion where eyes meet

and blinks become flutters
a stuttered word divine, because
what would be affirmed in the steep
is the scent of wafting play where
seeping things flow out into
the rivers in two cups
fragrant with cinnamon
and swirly with a word
whispered in the mists
before silence goes to bed

I’ve seen it in a memo.

Ding dong.

— Douglas Gilbert


3 thoughts on “Tea (Draft 2)

  1. Whoa…i love it, you’ve really added so much – it’s so vivid and full of the flavor of you…bold, enticing, strong and passionate. I like the “hot dreams” and the “stew in your backpack” the “notes” like gems”…I guess i should stop listing words because i think the whole poem is great. Oh, i wanted to mention these lines
    “Blue skies and fluff at the mountain top.
    In a cloud I see your face and a tea cup.

    I hear myself scream and
    see the grief of my breath
    form wispy puffs that fly away”

    Really great imagery there…it shows the amazing power and strength of emotions. Reminds me of a passionate fight that bursts out from within for life or for love or for everything one holds dear (or something like that?). It’s so sad and sadly, i know it too. It just now made me think of that painting “The Scream” too. See, it’s made my mind wander off in several directions…
    I also like the sweetness to the air stanza…talking about sweetness and sweet tea and the ring and that seems to lead the way to the ending,
    I love it – it’s kinda suspenseful in a way. Leaves the mind and heart wandering in wonder…

    1. Thanks very much. I’m glad the suspense was able to form. It’s an odd kind of editing: I started in the middle, and had a beginning that didn’t quite connect. I added a little wandering away and not sure if it would be worth finishing but plunged ahead to a tentative ending and then went back to insert a few hints or connective phrases to make the ending make more sense. And then I added a new beginning and a new ending and some in-between stuff and a new interpretation for something that sprang out of nowhere… it’s an up and back and sprinkle method I guess… but it sure is painful when it starts out disjointed and doesn’t seem fixable: what was I trying to say; what does it actually say or if it says something else, is that useable. Sometimes the jumble voice does better than I do — (well, jumble voice IS me, of course, but I don’t invest my ego in it, so when I say “I” I mean the logical always conscious one. Those subconscious thoughts and ideas that pop in I don’t attribute to the “I” I refer to when I say I thought of this or that. Yeah, maybe I could sign it with dual authors: written by me and it. The weirdest thing is when something comes to me and I write it down and later I find myself thinking, “Now why didn’t I think of that?” And then I realize, well, I did write it, so who am I talking about. Oh, I guess I already talked about this before. I suppose that’s why the Ancients invented the “Muses”. Naaah: my IT is the Muses and IT is me, I think, unless of course the writing is bad and then it’s the Muses fault. Yeah, yeah, yeah, the Muses do all my sub par writing and my IT does all the good stuff, and I, what would I know. Seems like I can drift and it’s OK for poetry…

      1. You’re welcome. I think your method of editing seemed to work some poetic magic. I like your jumble voice and you had me giggling at the written by “me and it”. I know what you mean though, sometimes ideas just seem to spring out from no where and then flow into a nice babbling brook of words. Well, I guess they do still, even if they haven’t for me in a while. My ego is broken and I’ve pretty much given up writing, i get so frustrated with even trying to express myself through words anymore – although i do still love reading and I think everything you write is excellent. So i suppose, you, it and the muses are all extraordinarily, amazingly, beautifully talented.

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