Day 215 – the first poem

Sunday, April 3, 2011
Day 215
12:18 am

the first poem

where were you when you penned that
you did not know to dare to think was
something in the fair shape of a

when did you decide it was one?

when did you look at it dead on,
with shaking hands, an
alright, here goes,
release it?

who was there to look you in the eye
after it was over and you felt like you
were lying across tracks, looking up
at the clouds, heavy, but with wings
lifting you past whatever silence
surrounded you?

was it a good silence?

how did it feel to get up,
rubbing the gravel and dirt
from your palms and legs,
feeling the marks left in
the skin of your knees?

did you loose your lungs?

how does it feel to breathe, now,
thinking back on that time you
either relish or have blocked out
all together?

does that first poem write to you now,
over and over, begging you
to continue fighting, driving,
dreaming, wishing, lulling, loving
to death, to life, to fruition?

or do you write to
asking the poem
for forgiveness,
for a future,
for continuance?

when the book rests
and pages are
tucked away
at the end of the evening,
what is the sound of



About traciakemi

traci akemi kato-kiriyama - inter/multi-disciplinary theatre/performance artist, arts educator, cultural worker, community organizer. Tuesday Night Project; theatre, performance, writing, and teaching projects with many organizations and artists including: zero 3; Edge of The World for Asian Arts Initiative in Philadelphia and the National Asian American Theatre Festival in New York; "PULL" with Kennedy Kabasares in San Francisco; Nobuko Miyamoto and Great Leap Collaboratory I; TeAda; NCRR; Oymun's 11. Playwright for "Chasing Dad - a performance of a reading about a play i'm writing" presented by Inside the Ford for the Ford's Summer Playwright series. View all posts by traciakemi

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