I met Josh at Cafe Gratitude more than a year ago. Pretty much everyone at Cafe Gratitude is really nice, but Josh, also known as Zuriel, is really nice! Smart, warm, friendly, planning a trip to Greece (at that time), and a poet. Eventually we became FB friends, where he posted this powerful poem (and a great recipe for Root Soup — so now I’m thinking about adding recipes to this blog… you know Poetry and Recipes! why not!)
I can really relate to the title of this poem. Sometimes on bad days, I feel I could do what the poem’s title says. Sorry. But life is sometimes like that. Hard to acknowlege, but I’m not here to fool you, and I really appreciate honesty in others.
So, here’s Josh’s poem…
I Died of Loneliness
By Joshua Lerman
I died of loneliness,
molecule by molecule peeling away, soaring to the sky like quiet sparks,
rendered translucent, then gone.
This small lake, once glistening turquoise, nestled in Colorado hills,
in the dry air.
Who could hold a lake?
All the movement,
all the turning hard in bed
Who would stay?
Who here is fully at home in themselves?
I used to be.
Or I thought I was.
Or, looking back, I think now that I was then,
but then I thought I wasn’t.
The cold is broken shards of glass
at my throat.
“Remember the sun?” a voice asks from deep recesses
folded in the hills. “Remember when it spoke to you?”
Forgotten dances rot the roots,
the garden wilts,
soggy stems bend in unnatural angles.
Where are the singers? the minstrels? the Angels
we were promised?
Stand up on your own two feet!
I died, after all this,
How, now, does one who is wispy as a forgotten ancient secret
find flesh again?
How does one differentiate oneself from air
and make a body of clay,
and who will breathe me into it?