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Twelve steps
there are between the cupboard and the fridge.
Straight lines, shortest distances, again.
From anywhere to anywhere
calculate, separate
here from there and split
the difference down
a thin, mid line. Tear
in half a universe of choice.

Go this way. Step by step, step, step.
Voices of reason, rulers,
razors, bells, hallways, handcuffs,
file cabinets. Tell me
and I'll go. Just tell me.
Point to points. Show
me the shortest distance.
Logic. Fine.
Except

I'm disappointed in the sense.
No straight lines in children
forest memory shade shadow
fallen voices kissing hair
dense scent vanilla
amber
sunlight
snow.

I've asked the nice, young man
to put me in the crow-stepped gable room.
It's quite uneven. And I've asked him
if he'll move the cupboard or the fridge
from time to time.
He's promised that he'll help me
blur these many lines.

------
______________________________________________

Check out Andy's blog on subjects creative at: TinkerX
Please do drop by. Comments tolerated. Abuse welcome.
TinkerX: Creative Flux for the Age of Content.


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Comments

The following comments are for "Long road"
by andyhavens

twelve steps
got to admit, had an adverse reaction to those opening lines. made me think of AA and the twelve step program they’re so fond of *shudders*… did wonder, to begin with, if that is what this was about, the meticulous, almost laborious measuring of distances, portioning out of time and space, progress measured in inches… that does sound like recovery to me, how the world becomes reduced to a routine, will of own surrendered. long road indeed…

then there’s the longing to “blur lines”, for things to be complicated, unpredictable, alive… like when we were children… a great sadness in that longing…

so, returned to this a few times, and now it strikes me as being more about the journey of adulthood in general, how we spend so long learning the catechisms of logic and common sense that we become trapped by them… having kids provides as much relief and rescue as being kids… but when the kids are grown and flown, then what…?

like the eccentricity of the last stanza, the cunning strategy devised to cope with normality and how patently batty that must appear to the “nice, young man”… was wondering where the narrator is, hotel? old folks home? hospital? some other kind of institution? … decided I quite like the ambiguity, it’s not fun to have everything figured out for you.

( Posted by: AuldMiseryGuts [Member] On: November 27, 2007 )

Andy's long road
First, I like that this is bipartite, because it discharges the perfunctory like so many gunshots and the reason rulers hallways etc all penetrate like bullets might. And wound. Those straight lines have to be set up, I think, and they need this whole first part of the poem to do their mind-numbing damage to the reader, so that, later on, a freedom from this can be accessed.

Second, I've always had a thing for straight lines as opposed to spirals and have always favoured the spiral movement. Your entire third stanza is a dance, almost a devic dance, and it is light, both in weight and in brilliance.

Third, I agree that vacations need to be taken away from those straight lines. From logic. From being told where to go.

Long road indeed.

Meditation helps.

Thank you for this.
Lucie

( Posted by: windchime [Member] On: November 27, 2007 )

journey...
Freedom found in letting go...

That's right, Andy, there are "No straight lines in children"

Blessings~

( Posted by: TheRealKarmaTseringLhamo [Member] On: November 28, 2007 )

Thanks, S., L and L
I appreciate the comments. This was a quick one. And I may revisit the subject again in more length or a different format. The difference between the straight and the curved is interesting, I think.

( Posted by: andyhavens [Member] On: December 1, 2007 )





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