i tend to drown// between the fragments

“where i learned to slice them so?” he grins,
“that woman in cambodia–
she always made me mango hedgehogs afterwards”
“boAHhh–”
i chase him round the kitchen,
still in my pajama, morning catches us,
lightweight, promising,

i love how easily he makes me smile
“did you know? picasso–”
“oh no” he covers up his ears,
then throws both arms around me, “what–?”

“in that pic, the start of his cubism phase,
he exchanged people for a bread, glass, breasts for fruit,
you can see some of their legs still though”,
“what a mad man”

i, as well abstract life and continually drown in it,
he rescues me, without realizing,
“i’m not going to that exhibit” he says
but bikes with me to basle, hands me over to picasso
after making sure my bike is tied

securely to a lightpole
“try and pull the lock through the back tire as well”
“you not gonna change your mind
and join me?” “no”
& it’s ok.

later in bed i say
“dunno how you do it, but you fix
the shattered pieces of my life
with just some well-placed turnscrew twirls,
kinda magical” he turns around
“sounds reasonable”
“haha, yeah it does, sleep well”
“you too”
& we switch off the light

.

it’s OpenLinkNight again at dVerse where poetry’s the art of choice.. grab a pen, write something poetical and join the fun… doors open at 3pm EST

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72 responses to “i tend to drown// between the fragments

  1. such a beautiful warm intimacy between you two…love the playfulness in the kitchen…the mundane moments of locking a bike tire and choosing at times to go separate ways, but still being content…love it claudia…really a beautiful piece…

  2. Your love and respect for both your husband and Picasso’s art comes through strongly in this poem, Claudia! And how lucky you are that it is biking weather there. I’m definitely jealous!

  3. A sweet capture of the intimacy and love between you. When I was in Chicago I was surprised at their wonderful collection at the Art institute of Chicago. He was definitely a genius. 🙂

  4. The best whole is made up of two unique halves… So it was with that first complement in Eden. I always love the thrust of your poetry and the life of your words, Claudia. Perhaps you are right. We are drawn to the pole we lack, both compasses in life’s journey. And in the end, we both are the better for it. 🙂 Eric

  5. Hi Claudia

    Some uncanny effects occurring
    between the fragments;
    coming together calmly in the closing

    that woman in Cambodia –
    she always made me mango hedgehogs afterwards

    securely to a light pole
    try and pull the lock through the back tire as well

    great stuff! 🙂

  6. Claudia, you both know the secret to a perfect relationship: Never force your partner to “play along.” WIth Lex, it’s the fact that I cross-stitch or blog during football games; with me, I don’t force him to subscribe to blogs. I do listen to his sermons, and he listens to me read my latest poetry.

    Picasso. Drop-dead perfection for me in a museum filled with Picasso’s Blues, Paul Klee, Kandinsky, lots of Frida Kahlo,, and a soupcon of good Pollock. (Some of it looks like a car accident!). As always, lovely. Amy

  7. Oh Claudia – just so wow! So very, very wow. We went to an extraordinary Braque exhibition this weekend – his way of pulling me out of my muck and mire. Thank you again for your beauty. Liz

  8. I really enjoyed this– the fragments/Picasso theme– all came together nicely– at once so full of the seemingly simple emotions of daily life that we don’t have names for (because they are not as simple as they seem!) yet not at all overly sentimental. Worth repeated readings~ peace, Jason

  9. I’m not sure what exactly it is about this piece, but by the end I felt the corners of my eyes weighed down by tears threatening to escape. definitely a beautiful and endearing write.

  10. these are my favorite stories of love, the everyday moments, the little things we do for each other without even thinking. i really love this.

  11. Lovely insight into your relationship, and a reckon a good call on his part: I only know for sure that I genuinely love/hate an art work if I’m alone with it!

  12. Beautiful…lovely intimacy and a magic poem… my hubby has a way of fixing the shattered pieces of me too…mind you I think he has a bit of picasso in him too! 😉

  13. The fragmentation of Picasso and life…and yet that wholeness of your love and intimacy…This is so warm and loving. A great write, Claudia!

  14. Claudia, you teach that neither love nor prayer is charcterized by clenching fists, fretting brow in a continual “I promise this or that”.

    Both the petition to God, and that wonderful oneness of love are accomplished in mutual, peaceful trust. YOU WRITE IT RIGHT…and no doubt DO IT RIGHT!
    A “happy” to you.

  15. Oh but to ‘fix the shattered pieces’ of ones’ life. I like that and how you worked Picasso in with all the abstract art that so mimics life. I saw his exhibit here and liked it alot. Nice write.

  16. “i, as well abstract life and continually drown in it,
    he rescues me, without realizing” Ah, and that’s how you know he’s a keeper. 🙂

    morning catches us,
    lightweight, promising”

    I love the way you weave such deep and poetic language throughout your adventures in storytelling. It’s like, you’re just going along telling a tale, but then every few lines you sneak in these dashes of magic. It’s always a pleasure to visit you.

  17. “sounds reasonable” is a great way of summing it all up at the end of the day…I love the reciprocity your two have…lovely, Claudia…and how beautiful you are in the new photo you posted! You don’t look a day older than 29..

  18. “he rescues me without realizing.” I can relate to this line so much with men.
    It’s entirely sweet this entry.

  19. I admire your husband for being so supportive of you even when he is tired of hearing about PIcasso. 🙂 I like how you wrote your exchange here. It’s like a drama playing out before me.

    • “i, as well abstract life and continually drown in it,
      he rescues me, without realizing,
      “i’m not going to that exhibit” he says
      but bikes with me to basle, hands me over to picasso
      after making sure my bike is tied…

      Thanks, for sharing a… moment in your life with your hubby through your poetic words…
      Picasso, a moment shared, a bike and caring…words that also comes to my mind after visiting your words.
      deedee 🙂

  20. i chase him round the kitchen,
    still in my pajama, morning catches us,
    lightweight, promising,

    made me smile. Really. I do so hope this is non-fiction. And if you like abstract, I will be hosting a challenge over at Imaginary Garden with Real Toads Friday with my daughter’s abstract art. 🙂

  21. What I love most about your words is that as I read, I get a glimpse of a comfortable love. I always leave with a smile (although sometimes it resembles one that picasso might have drawn) but a smile nonetheless. There is hope in the world.

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