Intimacies for dVerse Poets

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Intimacies

Remember that delicious
walking, arms linked,
down the middle
of the gravel road
in your pajamas
at five in the morning
when you were twelve?
That first slumber party
in your safe small town
when you all stayed up all night
for the first time in your lives?
That eerie first sight
of the sun coming up
when your head had never hit a pillow
since it went down?

And then you knew for the first time
the delicious pleasures
of being a night owl—
of finding time
that everyone else was wasting
through dreams.

And you have been
an aficionado of night
ever since.
All of your term papers
and exams studied for
at the last minute,
all night long.
Books written, poems written
mostly in the dark
while towns and cities around you slept.
That power of having all of your time for yourself
with not a chance of phones ringing.
Some magic happening
once you had the world to yourself
so ever afterwards
you have survived
on as little sleep as possible.

During your party years,
dancing and drinking till three,
then going for breakfast with the single crowd
and driving straight to school at six.
You were invulnerable.

Even married,
sneaking out of bed once he’d fallen asleep
and working in your basement studio all night long,
sometimes sneaking back to bed before he awakened,
at other times caught.
“It’s nine in the morning! Have you been up all night again?”
Feeling that little terror, like a vampire caught by light.

Then at 54, with no more husband,
no more job necessary,
with a new country and a new studio
above ground,
guilty pleasures no longer needed to be hidden—
watching light after light go out
as you sat piecing art together
in your studio—until suddenly,
impossibly,
light after light went on again
so you were going to bed
as your neighbor was arising
to start his day.

Then, improbably, at 62, internet romance
entered your midnight-and-after world.
Every night serenaded to sleep
from 1500 miles away
by an equally night-addicted lover bard
at two or three or four a.m.—
or whenever pillow talk led to it.

Skype became your love letters
and your trysting spot
now and then all day long;
but still, night better swaddled
that intimate invisible union
through the dark air
that has always been magic for you,
but which now joins instead of
sending you into the single space
where you unite with that within you
which you keep separate from the world.

At night, united or alone,
you know exactly what it is you want
and live it,
with no world
to lead you elsewhere.

 

For dVerse Poets we are to write about a moment of intimacy. I wrote about a number of them…and then, the ultimate. Unfortunately, I looked through photos for an hour and couldn’t find the right illustration. If you have an idea for one you’d like to donate, I’d like to consider it!

21 thoughts on “Intimacies for dVerse Poets”

    1. lifelessons's avatarlifelessons Post author

      Thanks, Violet. I’m finding all of these poems written for this prompt on dVerse Poets are really affecting me in a personal way, as well. So far, the tears have not ceased. If not falling, they are hovering on the brinks of my eyelids. No exaggeration.

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  2. Lisa or Li's avatarLisa or Li

    Judy, this one is a keeper. Hoping you submit it for the anthology.

    And then you knew for the first timethe delicious pleasuresof being a night owl—of finding timethat everyone else was wastingthrough dreams.

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          1. Lisa or Li's avatarLisa or Li

            I think you’ll know it when you see it. Please send 2 or 3. I tried to think of a good place I could snap a pic of a literal crossroads, but a metaphorical one may have to do…

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    1. lifelessons's avatarlifelessons Post author

      I’m sometimes in bed by ten, just not asleep until much later. Probably doing dVerse Poets!!! Lisa asked me to submit some photos for the Anthology. What size and dpi and where do I send them? She also asked me to send a specific poem, but I’ve already sent 3. That is the limit, right?

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  6. Helen's avatarHelen

    My oh my! Not sure where to begin ~ I feel as though you shared the part of you that is so intimate, private, sweet, generous, lovely, historical …. just wonderful Judy, wonderful.

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  8. kim881's avatarkim881

    I love your selection of night-time intimacies, Judy, spanning a lifetime, especially the reminder of ‘that eerie first sight of the sun coming up when your head had never hit a pillow since it went down’. I’m a morning person, so I’ve not known the pleasure of writing poems and books while towns and cities around me slept. But I do relish the power of having time for myself.

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