Melissa Pakalinsky
3 poems
**
Clock
Clock, I envy you
The intrigue of your entire purpose
I am no Orient, but I too have hands
two, and they can propel
forward, resist movement, I am able
For so many days, I just watch you
my friend, you never sleep
**
Twenty Third of November, 2006
It should have been my river
Ego lull
She prizes his madness, improperly
spitting grammar
But the lines are too fine, the threads
rot
Beside the skull, emerald satin
should have been spread
Water aching the sound that only
living water can make
Abdomen, lower than self and soil
Place of relation, fabric of invitation
and poor metaphor
I could make it a point to draw on
the birds, spill on and on of their
providence
But the quiet must come first
**
A Name Like Jasper
A name like Jasper, prescription
runs out, fever recurs, water
does not revive fish that can't
swim, on a grave horizon, I will
paint blue roses, for a name
like Jasper, I will crawl
along the underbelly of steel
mocassin, have the tea ready
dress up in mint leaves, surrender
no matter the sting, embrace every
fist of his rage, I will remain silent
for a name like Jasper, I will give
a name like Jasper every inch of
my spine, I will eat the fish, I'll
make sure they never swim again
for a name like Jasper
**
return to sawbuck 1.3
**
Melissa Pakalinsky says: "I began writing poetry at the age of nine.My first short story was 'The Sandman.' Leonard Cohen's book Stranger Music was the first book I had bought with my allowance at thirteen, and had been the inspiration ever since to write and journal daily. Aside from being a creative outlet, the power of language and current is my dearest friend, in a 'strange' sense! It is innate and is something I just...must do."
**
Clock
Clock, I envy you
The intrigue of your entire purpose
I am no Orient, but I too have hands
two, and they can propel
forward, resist movement, I am able
For so many days, I just watch you
my friend, you never sleep
**
Twenty Third of November, 2006
It should have been my river
Ego lull
She prizes his madness, improperly
spitting grammar
But the lines are too fine, the threads
rot
Beside the skull, emerald satin
should have been spread
Water aching the sound that only
living water can make
Abdomen, lower than self and soil
Place of relation, fabric of invitation
and poor metaphor
I could make it a point to draw on
the birds, spill on and on of their
providence
But the quiet must come first
**
A Name Like Jasper
A name like Jasper, prescription
runs out, fever recurs, water
does not revive fish that can't
swim, on a grave horizon, I will
paint blue roses, for a name
like Jasper, I will crawl
along the underbelly of steel
mocassin, have the tea ready
dress up in mint leaves, surrender
no matter the sting, embrace every
fist of his rage, I will remain silent
for a name like Jasper, I will give
a name like Jasper every inch of
my spine, I will eat the fish, I'll
make sure they never swim again
for a name like Jasper
**
return to sawbuck 1.3
**
Melissa Pakalinsky says: "I began writing poetry at the age of nine.My first short story was 'The Sandman.' Leonard Cohen's book Stranger Music was the first book I had bought with my allowance at thirteen, and had been the inspiration ever since to write and journal daily. Aside from being a creative outlet, the power of language and current is my dearest friend, in a 'strange' sense! It is innate and is something I just...must do."
