Stranger

Simple tune.

Convoluted soul.

Stark runes.

Worn, like that one pair of shoes

You could never bear to throw out;

The ones you insist can still be used.

The pair that walked with you

For so long, Bearing old scars and

Still waiting for more anew.

That pair that is broken in, broken down,

Broken up. Tired. Comfortable. Doesn’t matter

Where you’re headed; it’s always homebound.

Familiar, like that one song you’ve always

Known. That nameless one that beckons

To you. That takes you away.

The song that you’ve never known.

And yet always known.

And somehow will always know.

Recognizable on instinct,

Decipherable upon thought,

Unfathomably indistinct.

Like all things that take you away,

Far away; transcending all tomorrow

And every yesterday.

Something that plucks you from

The palm of the familiar, taking you

Absolutely nowhere; Where you belong.

It takes you to back into the hand

Where nothing has moved since.

But you’re lost in your homeland.

Mysterious, like dream catchers

With all they hold; tenuous feathers

From faraway rafters.

An eagle that seizes you, your kicking feet

Scraping tenuous wisps of cloud, when suddenly

Your form and the ground haphazardly meet.

Infuriating dreamlike apparitions that appear

In your weakest moments, but

Somehow always vanish when you draw near.

What do you seek of me? Spirit adamant;

Somehow your presence never fades;

Even so (more so?) in abandonment.

Who are you? What to me are

You? Something. Nothing. Everything.

Play me like one of your guitars.

Melody low

Hold me.

Then go.

[Note: In case it isn't obvious, yes the lines rhyme.

I wrote this to capture my impressions of a certain person after we met for the first time.

One of my more self-indulgent poems whereby the audience has no clue what I'm talking about, and the only person with intimate knowledge of all the analogies and connections is me, since nobody can understand it. Maybe smart people who also happen to read my blog can figure it out. Idk.

I don't think I've ever edited a poem so many times before.]