Tuesday, October 25, 2005


like a drum her heart is
bom bomm, bom bomm,
and the murmurs and hums,
the inner sighs of her breathing,
an orchestrated cacaphony
of discrete bodily movements,
motions in rhythms of their own,
each moving as a part of the greater song.

but a sudden kick, a pulse,
for just a moment, pushing taut
the distended surface of her belly,
sounding its own treble bruit,
pressing out an extra curve,
a sudden random beat
out of sync with the chorus,
heralds the start of a new song.

Written for the word of the day, bruit, at Poem of the Day.


Blogger garnet david said...

sweet poem with a tense pause before the optimistic resolution. musical. i hope we hear more of the new song.

10/25/2005 9:07 PM  
Blogger MB said...

Ah, that song's been singing on its own for a good number of years now. Thanks, Garnet.

10/26/2005 11:38 AM  
Blogger leslee said...

Very nice. I like how the new song is out of sync, pressing out another curve, sounding its own treble bruit - its own being already.

10/26/2005 1:17 PM  
Blogger garnet david said...

Oh, good. The happy ending continues! the coda grows.

10/26/2005 7:03 PM  
Blogger MB said...

Oh yes, that song is definitely singing its own verses, happy and strong and much beloved and admired.

10/27/2005 10:23 AM  

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