July 5th: #5 of 30/30 Poems

On leaving the barn door open / by Risa Denenberg

In 1994, when Leonard Cohen danced
me to the end of love, then split and holed up
for six years on Mount Baldy, afraid of losing

nothing, which he never found, I missed him
as sorely as I missed my son, kidnapped
from my arms; the woman who left me loveless;
and my amethyst ring, lost on a Greyhound bus.

I’ve decomposed my losses by leaning
on imagery and verse, by my own version
of hermitude, by renouncing ordinary eros.

Which is how I learned about the barn door
and came to accept that matter and energy
are neither, but something else altogether.

Though soon enough physicists changed up
on me with their quantum astigmatism,
and I failed meditation 101, unable to sit
zazen without a titter, and still haven’t learned

to use my inside voice. It’s the slight headache,
the worry that I’ve lived the wrong life, the fear
of not being able to fill my days with thoughts,
the fear of not being able to stop thoughts,

the thought itself, like a scapel cutting
into the white matter of my brain,
saying, this here is an irreversible mistake.
There will be no do-overs. I’ll limp through two
more decades without conjugation of any sort.

If you fear your losses,
leave the barn door open
so you won’t be disappointed
when the horses are gone.

This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to July 5th: #5 of 30/30 Poems

  1. Mark says:

    Well put, sensitive, insightful, helpful. Thank you again in making new possibilities with the doors open for thoughts to run free and away from collective insanity and convention.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s