i won’t cut his hair//what i learned from reading Samson

photo-211

little sketch from my bike ride back home from work yesterday

.

80 biking kilometers&a rough day
ache in my muscles,
at dinner time, fork to mouth to–

i start sentences i never finish
(he can guess most endings though)

as my mind jumps out-of-place
words/line/next theme,
&a slowly sinking sun
graffiti_ies
evening sky w/purple

later
between a million midnight sheets,
i feel him//
every fibre longing for me

thinking about Samson,
wondering why he told her
when he knew// the pain
of loving she who will betray/
hope/robbed/worthless
to the point of giving up–

feeling for his fingers in the dark
i ask “wanna sleep with me?”
“nah, i’m good, you’re tired–”
“as long as i don’t have to talk“ i smile, undress
stretch toward that one last purple gap,
ink on skin before she crashes
in splinters on moon’s ragged chest,

& fall asleep
heavy with what sprung forth from his loins
speeding heart-ward

outside in the fog,

hoards of philistines rub damp hands
‘round an open fire
& i know he’s gonna slay them
if they dare draw close

.

smiles… started biking to my workplace again.. it wears me a bit though after the long winter break… oy…happy weekend!

shared with PU

44 responses to “i won’t cut his hair//what i learned from reading Samson

  1. … cutting my samson’s hair all the time … have been doing so for years … i have my reasons … smiles … cutting is better than killing … smiles

  2. i love the humility and honesty in this…i really like how you use the samson story….not just in the middle but that last bit with the philistines approaching and the acknowledgement/realization that he is willing to face them for you or with you…

  3. I felt the pleasure of the ride in spite of the pain. I can imagine those limbs need to get back in the habit. Admire that you’re so active. And love how you write about it.

  4. I am impressed with the distance you can bike before and after the workday, especially since it must not yet be very light in the morning… I enjoyed your painting and had to look up the Wiesendamm Promenade. Appreciated the Samson reference as well. Made me think! Smiles.

  5. really…why he told her…the women were his vulnerable spot…and hair…god’s plan to challenge us….~ you do it to yourself biking so long…~ love art, the bridge – especially :)xx

  6. Ah…this brought flashbacks of our ride in Vietnam a number of years ago…the fatigue at the end of the day…the rapid transition to dreams…and the feeling of having a love one near….another excellent write.

  7. Could you hear my “wow” pinging over there in Germany, Claudia? This is so well written–the play of fatigue then the sensuality. The inclusion of biblical reference with allusion to Dalilah’s betrayal–it h. Ha!)as it all. (The fatigue–that I could relate to–Ha!)

  8. What a feast of a post – your wonderful sketch – you bike 80 kilometres AND fulfilled your day job AND did a sketch AND wrote a poem AND finished the day in your man’s arms. You are a Wonder-Woman. Loved all of this, I am way impressed. Ah, youth! Hee hee.

  9. Hi Claudia, a couple of brill stretches here:

    “later
    between a million midnight sheets,
    i feel him//
    every fibre longing for me…”

    AND

    “i smile, undress
    stretch toward that one last purple gap,
    ink on skin before she crashes
    in splinters on moon’s ragged chest,”

    Lovely, lovely work… With Best Wishes Scott

  10. By the end of this poem I didn’t think about the 80 km at all! my mind was on the more intimate ride and the protection of a long-haired Samson during the beautiful sleep. Wonderful poem. Grin.

  11. What a wonderful feeling to know that someone longs for you, isn’t it? 🙂 Love this line:

    &a slowly sinking sun
    graffiti_ies
    evening sky w/purple

    The whole poem was delicious, delightful and beautifully penned

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