You Are Here
Our bodies are like maps
on dog-eared pages
marked by old haunts
across sun freckled flesh
Stretched with furrowed plots
down travel-logged paths
where bones bend like branches
under the weight of fruitful days
Our bodies wane translucent
Our veins bulge blue
Sharp edges soften
and thoughts slow with overuse
Until our view turns inward
to off-the-map futures
where our bodies are the breath
that carries on and echoes
Where our bodies are the stories
that linger when they’re spoken
that live beyond bound matter
and fear of being lost
_______Colleen Redman / Poets and Storytellers United
November 13th, 2021 2:10 am
bodies are like maps on dog-eared pages- I love that image!
November 13th, 2021 2:46 am
Yes I am here! How beautifully you’ve put it all into words. Of course I especially love the closing verse.
November 13th, 2021 3:37 pm
Love this:
“our bodies are the stories
that linger when they’re spoken
that live beyond
bound printed matter
on decomposing paper”
November 13th, 2021 4:24 pm
That last verse hits especially hard. The idea of transcending to become a story is poetry indeed.
November 13th, 2021 10:01 pm
The last stanza is a mixture of beauty and reality. The imagery offered in the last couple of lines are devastating. The contrast, the decay… made me shiver.
November 14th, 2021 1:17 pm
The poem title alone say so much. Then the whole poem takes me on some kind of a journey. But renders a pause “thoughts slow with overuse” where I mull over this line, before proceeding. That last stanza is punching. Thank you for the gift of words.
November 14th, 2021 3:11 pm
We speak of the dead, and they live again…for a little while…
November 14th, 2021 5:27 pm
Our bodies have so many stories to tell and we can never be too sure which ones they remember and which ones they have forgotten.
November 14th, 2021 10:45 pm
great imagery in the poem.
i like the title. “You Are Here” is never constant, it moves where one’s story is beginning and ending. How well the poem is crafted.
November 15th, 2021 9:53 pm
well, my body certainly feels like the map of the pine national forest that i bought over 30 years, and if i unfold it one more times its just going to fall apart, and i’ll need half a roll of duct tape to hold together… if i can remember where all the pieces go. very well said
November 17th, 2021 9:03 am
The merging imagery of our bodies, our beings, as words…
What would our stories that are left behind when we decompose? Hmm…
November 17th, 2021 12:05 pm
The passing of decades, the ravages of time, the wonder of it all, surviving …. these are weighing heavily on my mind now. I am thankful for this poem which I have copied, printed and will keep in my folder of favorites.