according to psalm 139,1-18 or //how Indy got it wrong stating that X–

they were stored (sparkling vermillion)
in the back of the garage already,
i didn’t see them though last year
when we moved my mama to her new flat
after christmas
&we didn’t pack them— still—

in spring she puts up flowers on her balcony,
sleeps middays in the velvet of their breath,
weak/ wrinkled smiles all over&
i could’ve touched

the fading
in her eyes— but crossed it out with thicK blaCk marker, bargain/beG,
wrapped in a camel merchant’s cape//in scorching desert sun:OneYear
—- &He accepts

the bus that races up mount Tibidabo’s crowded, i stand
squishedTigHt between locals, Barcelona tourists,
sweating families, a small korean boy, pale, voMit
spilling from his mouth, his brother staring stressedOut

down the aisle— it is good friday
church pacKed, i touch Jesus’ feet/Chest,liPs
inTimate worShip, sipping red wine from a tiny plastic mug
ruNning his hand along the cracKs—He answers
me in spanish//    outside

on the hilltop, night wears a pink baseball cap
dark glasses, fleece hood//headache
thousand lights/my outline in the pane a shade/
against the moment, face bright_hot,
&in my hands a map where X marks just this spot,
revealing traCes— of his glory


17 responses to “according to psalm 139,1-18 or //how Indy got it wrong stating that X–

  1. So sorry about your mother Claudia…. psalm 139 is a pretty good one. The best part about sparkling vermillion – lost or found – as to ourselves – is that it is. As are we.

  2. Lovely Claudia. Your words of your mum are warm and beautiful and speak of your love. Cheers for sharing.
    Anna :o]

  3. Goodness, I always like the depth of your poems and streaming thoughts. When my sister passed in a fire in 1975 @ the age of 24, my mother blacked out the day on her calendar with a thick black marker. She would have related to “wrapped in a camel merchant’s cape”:-)
    The ‘velvet breath of the flowers’ is marbelous.

  4. This just reaches in and grabs at the heart. My mother has been sick, a failing heart and numerous hospital visits. I can see the fading in her eyes as well. I can truly feel your heartfelt words.

    Nice to read your words again, wishing you better days.

  5. Claudia, I love the way you pierce through emotions. This poem touches me deeply, reminding me of the mourning, the sadness of missing my mother, then my mother-in-law. We realize the value of their lives even more once they’re gone. My heart is with you.

  6. Oh, I’m so glad to see you back in the world of poetry. Have to subscribe again. The intermingling of your mother/good friday and so many powerful images is so impactful. I lost my mom last October. Huge holes in our hearts. Love to you.

  7. Claudia– how are you? (first and I love your paintings.) The end is especially strong here–moving vivid. Thanks. Hope all well. k.