Friday, April 17, 2015

Have Not

Have Not

I have a bed no
sheets will fit,
four walls a color
 no paint will cover.
I have a man
no one can see,
no one can be who
holds another
as close as me.
I have a lover
as true as the grave
whose ink never runs
who's an open page.
I have a heart
no love will fit;
and moss its own color
will cover it.

~June 2014, revised April 2015

Poem 17 for April--no, the picture doesn't really fit, I just like it.

The Lantern Bearers, 1908, by Maxfield Parrish Fair use via


  1. First--a very cool pic, and fits in its way, I suppose--and also I love your tags. Now, the poem--a new favorite--it has a very old-timey feel--I can't think of what I mean in that, but something Blakean or before--George Herbert? Or some early Americans? Almost like a riddle, and of course, there are riddle aspects to it, and it is riddled as well, with both a kind of solitary confidence and mournful loneliness--Great sound, great enjambment especially, great rhyme and repetition. Just great. And easy to memorize which is always a good sign in my book. k.

    1. Thanks, k--found this one in the files last night when I was too exhausted to think of writing--I couldn't believe I hadn't ever posted it, but I searched diligently and it appears I haven't--it was a long time ago it came to me, but I remember clearly that it all came of a piece, and the revisions I've made here are just a word or two and change of line break. Glad you liked it--I found its simplicity easing.

  2. Very cool structure, Hedge. It does have a riddle like feel.

  3. I have stuff in my pile, but it's called a pile for a reason. piles, dog pile, pile o' crap. you, however, have gems stashed away, riches untold, that you can extract and give the light of day. plus, I managed to delete about 2 months of work today, unintentionally, for a major project next week. i'm *overjoyed* right now, and cast longing eyes at the scotch bottle. but to your pen - I agree with k, the image does fit, by framing the pen with an emotional stance that conjures up childhood (the rhyming, the white clowns), yet belied by the refrains, especially the final couplet. ~

    1. Good grief--two months of work deleted is horrible! I hope you find some way to recover it. I have a back up hard drive, but don't use it nearly enough. I don't know about gems and treasures--they feel more like old suits of clothes mothballed and out of date, but sometimes I do get lucky. I am feeling rather whipped by this poem a day thing right now--but with only 12 days to go, I am hoping we all make it. Good luck with your project M--or alternatively, the scotch.

  4. I love Maxfield Parrish, and this one in particular. I've never seen it! Right now I'm using a Maxfield Parrish book marker, but i am too zausted to get up and go see what the name of the piece is. It's a girl with clouds and stuff, mostly blue and white.

    As for the poem, we all keep an odd and unknowable menagerie with us, don't we?

  5. I think the picture fits perfectly... because it doesn't. That makes sense, right?

    Your line breaks are perfect. I read it once, with an exaggerated pause on the breaks, and then following the punctuation. I love how varies from one reading to the other.

    Ah, those things we know are there but no one can see... or we can't see yet... or are there, but not quite doing the job... so much.


"We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, out of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry." ~William Butler Yeats

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