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Art
December 2009 
She was angry with me
Posted on Oct 14th, 2009
by 
Doug
Doug
She was angry with me
with my drumming
god it hurt when he left
when she left
took her diaphram first
before the clothes
before the worldly possessions
before me
were divided,
a pink chair for her
that green chair in my studio
rough
and it wasn't about you
it was about the fear of someone feeling so good
being near
I want to tear apart my greatest art
but if it is hidden
in the corner of the woods
safe dreaming Night Goodnight Bye.
And my mind imagines
when I'm alone
way off down the cliff-side
where you said you would meet me
where the sea doesn't care
where I scream and sing
where sea birds hover
on the air
wondering about me
what this creature intends
with this ritual offering of intonated breath
this song for a kiss
for a someone behind the page
to jump off real flesh, alive.
I saw that once
pressed against the back of a couch
and she looked at me
with that quiet look,
I held her
and a storm rushed through
and I woke up in Montana
with my drum;
and she was angry with me.
with my drumming
god it hurt when he left
when she left
took her diaphram first
before the clothes
before the worldly possessions
before me
were divided,
a pink chair for her
that green chair in my studio
rough
and it wasn't about you
it was about the fear of someone feeling so good
being near
I want to tear apart my greatest art
but if it is hidden
in the corner of the woods
safe dreaming Night Goodnight Bye.
And my mind imagines
when I'm alone
way off down the cliff-side
where you said you would meet me
where the sea doesn't care
where I scream and sing
where sea birds hover
on the air
wondering about me
what this creature intends
with this ritual offering of intonated breath
this song for a kiss
for a someone behind the page
to jump off real flesh, alive.
I saw that once
pressed against the back of a couch
and she looked at me
with that quiet look,
I held her
and a storm rushed through
and I woke up in Montana
with my drum;
and she was angry with me.
Access: Public
i like this poem. the drumming rhythm of it whether she's angry or not.
that quiet look… such a powerful poem
Hmm….and to think the whole time I been thinking that its not possible for anyone to be ever mad with our Dougie. *sighing with wonder* You know…good thing this poem is sooooooooooooo awesome or I swear I'd have to go get some er…wine. lol.
This rocks! Doug. You rock, too!
TY Kathy! It's like Hendrix's Red House ”Wait a minute something's wrong here
The key won't unlock this door
Wait a minute something's wrong
Lord, have mercy this key won't unlock this door
Somethin's goin' on here
I have a bad, bad feeling
That my baby don't live here no more
That's alright, I still got my guitar
Look out now…” :)
Hi Nicole and TY! You catch me stealing again. This time from William Carlos Williams.
“The Revelation
I awoke happy, the house
Was strange, voices
were across the gap
Through which a girl
Came and paused,
Reaching out to me—
Then I remembered
What I had dreamed—
A girl
One whom I knew well
Leaned on the door of my car
And stoked my hand—-
I shall pass her on the street
We shall say trivial things
To each other
But I will never cease
To search her eyes
For that quiet look—”
Dougie leans his head closer, through the open car window and he says;
“Hi Amy! I seem to have lost my phone number. Can I have yours?”
Lol!
Love you Amy! xoxo
took her diaphram first
before the clothes
I want to tear apart my greatest art
but if it is hidden
in the corner of the woods
safe dreaming Night Goodnight Bye.
I am so grateful for poetry,so damn hooked on words that give back to me life through letters,as painful and as honest as they are.
Lol, Dougie. Why, that's the best p/u line I've ever heard. And it works!!! So um…*clears throat* My number is kind of universal…u can reach me anytime of the day or night. Isn't it awesome? Lol. Its 911. Rotfl. Hugs. Love u sweetly.
TY B.B. It's so nice to see you :-)
You know sometimes I get emails from friends after I've posted a new poem and they are like Doug! Are you alright? please step back from the edge, DON'T JUMP!! And I'm like What????
What I write is personal, but more personal historic detached then personal current painful. It's what I love about art making, it kind of gives you a view of your movie from the back row.
Amy, I just called and they asked me if it was an emergency!
Hmmmm????
Well, we have time and there is another movie to watch. (Oooo goodie Amy's movie!!!)
Here have some popcorn. (Dougie yawns, arms overhead and stealthy slips his arm around Amy and pulls her a little closer.) Smiles…
oh Doug! smiling fondly
I have Red House on my hard drive along with a couple of hundred other songs I enjoy hearing. Thanks so much for the William Carlos Williams. Awesome poem