She Is Not Among The Debris
Posted on March 28, 2015
by Elan Mudrow
46 Comments

She forgets the slow current’s nature
The bridge makes memory disappear
Both sides, anchored to one another
By concrete skin, steel bolts, a mirage
Beams and illusion. Hazy covenant
The shores are never separate sides
Only two similarities, held in suspension
The ferry allowed her a connection
Provided time, renewal, ages to swim in
Banks gave up affinity, held unique desire
Now she bites with identical jaws
into wooden docks, slippery,
overgrown with asphalt and oil
She interrupts the bridge at its heart
A way to swim, to enter the slowness
A means to disconnect, severe from sameness
The sky turns the river into blue invitations
It does not lie, but reflects, apart
The river, ashen surface, greyness, an area
There are always crests in the wind
As if the river runs backwards
She must be pulled up by hand
She is not among the debris
Spring runoff has plans of its own
Bunching up, with the bridge
She swims with all her clothes on
Singularities explode into dimensions
Her fall, is a taste of everything remembered

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Category: PoetryTags: A Yearning for Self, Author, Bridges, Desire, Individuality, memory, Mythology, Poem, Poetry, Religion, Rivers, Suicide, Weather, Writer, Writing
Very inspiring. Love the imagery.
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Nicely sewn together.
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Thanks
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I felt the steel cold and the water numbing, and I understood the forgetting. deep and provocative. thanks.
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Thanks
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Beautifully written. The emotion is raw and bites into the soul. Those of us who’ve been there understand and those who’ve not been, will still understand. You’ve married an image with words that will linger in my mind and your message will stay with me as I move throughout the day. Exquisite!
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Just saying the truth. ^__^
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Thanks so much!
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Wow. Your words are… amazing. I am a bit jealous, I have to admit.
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Thanks
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So engaging. I’ve read it multiple times and I’ll have to again. It’s brilliant!
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This reads like a song
I’m sure some people see that as an insult but some people see a can of mixed nuts as the core problem with Western society. So, the hell with those people.
Thank you for the song.
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Evocative.
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Perhaps, the paper is the ferry. I’m ok with it being crinkled. I guess, I’ll defend this poem. Then again, people have been thinking about “The Waste Land” ever since its publication. Fragments, polyrhythms are never “dead in the water”. You’re the best and have always let me find inspiration. I’m still thinking on it.
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Yeah, but I think it went down on paper with a bit of a crinkled corner of the mouth and a wink. Still thinking on it.
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Thanks
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This is beautiful. Your voice is spectacular.
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Wow. This is deep and apt.
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Profound and engaging images throughout your poem. It traveled me over the bridge.
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Very artistic and poignant.
Thanks for the follow!
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Thanks
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so beautifully penned !! loved reading this 🙂
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Thanks Sherrie!!
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Great work of art here – a true artist – you wrote it perfect. I really love this. Wow … 🙂
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Thanks!
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You had me, Elan, at that first great line
and you held me right through.
This is worthwhile writing of a high order.
Best Wishes
john
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Thanks. I appreciate your criticism. Perhaps you might want to check out Gertrude Stein’s “Tender Buttons”. Poetry is much more than making “a” point.
“
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The language is beautiful and the imagery juggles the construction of a bridge with the landscape very skilfully. What eludes me is the actual point your making. I also think the middle part of the poem needs restructuring. I found it confusing.
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I always pick the images after a poem is nearing completion. The inspiration came from observation, a connection to an emotional language that resides within me, and life.
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Does the image reflect the poem or vice versa? What was the inspiration?
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I’m expecting mixed reactions. That’s interesting to me.
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Thanks
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Enjoyed very much. Image and writing sets a fitting mood. 🙂
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Desires are full of complexities. Some of them can have conflicting ideas intertwined within the same structure. Thanks!
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I like this change of direction for you.
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It’s a bit of a dark one. The reader always draws their own picture.
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Give me time to Work on this one. As in all ART, the user draws their own “picture”.
I will find one !
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What a striking poem…its language is just brilliant….thanks for a great read.
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I understand what you mean. I also like it and don’t like it at the same time.
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I want to say I like it and don’t like it at the same time. It is such a good poem that what it conveys and how it conveys is all the more shivery and sad. Very evocative.
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Thanks DiAnne. I’m now (recently) on Twitter. I’m not much of a phone person. As a matter of fact, where is my phone? I’ve got to go and find it.
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Had to share this one on Twitter…love your words.
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Thanks for the reblog!
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Reblogged this on Philosopher Poet with Dreams.
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Thanks
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I love your language throughout. Striking image
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