I crossed Dallas twice in one night.
Sometimes strange things happen
surreal things
like Dallas in the middle of California
and my stride stretching across state lines,
like that night the rain
pounded its tiny fists against the windshield
and somehow
at the height of midnight
went silent.
It made no sense
to see the rain lose its muster,
and all it took was one degree
33
32
such a delicate balance...
we forget
there is Laminin
and one misappropriation of the chain
will cause our structure to fold.
In all that is unknown
and questionable
outside the norm
as if ever there was such a thing...
there is this glue that keeps us
together enough
that a silent rain
is not an oddity at all.
It's just snow.
I like this
ReplyDeleteIt's like I was there.
Thanks
Rabbit
BAG! Kinda funky to see a simple moment put to poetry. Bob would argue that making complex from simple is a hazard to contentment. Perhaps having been there, you can see that isn't necessarily so :)
DeleteIt all comes together in the way your words proceed. Great writing.
ReplyDeleteI wonder though if what is random, has no choice with the options available, to eventually look just as well planned.
There is chaos and there is random. I do think think that random can look planned, but not chaos. Chaos never looks like anything but chaos and it never becomes organized without intelligence. And then again, I believe intelligent design includes options that make random possible. How boring otherwise. Look at the human face? Features all the same, but within the nose, eyes, mouth, ears...infinite possibilities. Interesting question Anthony!
Deletei'd like the recipe to turn the rain in my life to pretty snow. funny, when i looked up laminin, i first got the google results for laminine, otherwise known as the happy pill. well, i thought, that might make the rain go away:)
ReplyDeletei like the moment of the rain going silent, and floating down all around all of a sudden. it's a nice moment. i like the dallas edge in the beginning very much. something strange happened in dallas. i'm left to wonder what, which is kinda neat.
You drive 80 miles an hour in a downpour until the temp drops to 32 degrees. Add a dash of sugar and let set for 2 hours.
DeleteDallas is on the sidewalk along my street. Faintly, you can also see the USA, so it seemed someone was etching the city, not a person. What were they thinking when they tattooed the cement? Longing for Texas? I'm left to wonder too!
Change, even subtle, can be very nice if you want it to be.
ReplyDeleteyes, I think it "snows" here in Texas from time to time...tiny crystals of change...
ReplyDeleteOk, so I had to look up Laminin and when I did, I said "Oh yes." You have captured the essence of a moment, one of the tiny details that make life huge and stunning. Well done. This poem is one of your best.
ReplyDeleteThat is a great statement. It is the tiny details that make life huge and stunning. THank you Liza!
DeleteGreat poem, with some incredibly strong images. I love the picture of the rain beating its tiny fists against the window.
ReplyDeleteDallas in the middle of California? ::shudder:: Heaven forbid!
Thanks Tracy. Hey...I looked for your billboards when we were in LA last week, but didn't catch any. Maybe next time. Go get 'em girl!
DeleteIt's snowing pollen here *cough, cough*
ReplyDeleteIf only pollen would turn to petals, would turn to flowers, would turn to....yadda yadda yadda.
DeleteI remember after my mother passed away, and it was time to fly home to Japan (to my wife who was 6 months pregnant), I wanted to avoid Dallas. Not only was the connection hectic, but Dallas brought back memories -- and I just wanted to avoid it. So I connected through Atlanta instead on 9/10, with the intention of flying from Atlanta to Los Angeles and then to Japan on 9/11. Of course, I didn't make it (this was in 2001)… over Missouri, they first said we had engine problems, then they said all planes of our model and make had engine problems, then they said the truth was a plane had flown into the White House, then we made an emergency landing in Dallas -- and gradually I began to learn what was going on -- then I had to spend nearly a whole week in Dallas, in a suburban hotel, just wanting to go home … I don't know what it was about Dallas, that year, I didn't seem to be able to avoid it.
ReplyDeleteThere is serendipity all over the place -- unplanned for order, snapping together when temperatures change or some other threshold is crossed. Who knows what any of it means -- we can only sit back and gaze in amazement sometimes. Dallas gets me, too.
What an amazing poem.
I was on the east coast 9/10/01, flying back late night to the west coast. When I arrived early morning on the 11th I went to sleep for a couple hours. I woke and turned on the news while I was doing my hair. Dumbfounded! Planes had left my airport and flown into the twin towers! What? Yes...you call it serendipitous, I call it God...but we are here by a narrow margin. One degree...
Delete33
32
Why? Why you. Why me. Saved. Alive. Here. Every wonder? I do.
Thanks Matt.
The changes in nature, at a moments notice change our world to a new view. Like a rainbow after the rain!!
ReplyDeleteLike our life, changes in a second!
What a lovely observation!
Annie,
ReplyDeleteI love this ..A simple event unfolding so exceptionally in different dimensions emanating from this simple man's perception and grasp..brilliant...i feel like going out myself tonight
Everything unfolds if you give it time. There's the surface of things, and then there are all those duck feet paddling furiously beneath. How deep it goes is a moment by moment choice. Hope you had a great evening my friend.
Delete"and one misappropriation of the chain
ReplyDeletewill cause our structure to fold." and jumping puddles leaves a huge gap in space and time...
The rain has been a roar to my deaf ears for a while now. I need the caress of floating flakes to ease my paranoia. But I guess a puppy will have to do (Pickles is getting her helpmate soon). (Hugs)Indigo
Oh a puppy is WAY better than snow. I'm excited for you and Pickles. You brought back a memory...not jumping over puddles but smack dab in the middle of them with my galoshes :) Thank you!
Deleteannie, i always read your comments but tonight i have time to only skim.
ReplyDeletebut to call snow 'silent rain'? i think that is brilliant.
i just had to tell you that tonight.
i'll be back. i've had a hell of a hard week or two. i've been hiding under my pillows but things and hope are slowly getting better. i hope for you too. xoxo
I have a brilliant idea about once every decade, so I guess this was it! But honestly...I feel these poems are not really my ideas at all. They come from somewhere else, and if I read them two months after I have written them, it seems like I'm reading someone elses poetry! Strange indeed. Hibernation will get you nowhere, but it sure is tempting :) Sorry about those hard weeks. Hopefully April will bring ease.
ReplyDeletei feel this way exactly too, annie.xoxo
DeleteAh, Dallas Dallas. I'm in Dallas. I'm not sure what it means, as far as divine intervention goes, Annie. You know, Dallas backwards is sallad.
ReplyDeleteLike salad, and I think sala means meeting room in Spanish. Look it up. I could be muy estupido there.
You also have lad, Sal (a nice Italian fella, short for Salvatore), alas, all, alls, and las (short for laser surgery).
That's got to mean something. Maybe you and Sal get some salad and, alas, you all have some lads.
Man, I've been playing Scrabble too much on the crapper. I need a new game to play during my constitutionals.
- Eric
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