Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Plans

Plans

One night, when your body is readying
itself for sleep, you resist. Instead,
you go to the living room, twist the little
knob at the base of the lamp that calls light
back into the bulb, the shade. You sit
near the lamp and make plans. Tomorrow,
what friend you will call or visit,
how she takes her coffee. What errands
you will complete, a new umbrella
or bar of soap to purchase, the shops
you mean to explore but never do,
their windows full of glittering cookware
or single shoes turned out toward
the street, as if the wearer had stepped out
of them, through the glass and into
the world, vulnerable. Which restaurant
you will select, and why. The Japanese
place for its emptiness. Or that healthy cafe,
for who you once ate there with. You plan
not to cancel your year by eliminating
all space from it, shipping away your time
box by box. You will plan leisurely,
at the same pace by which you recall
dreams in the morning, kneading together
the pieces that surface by returning.

7 comments

  1. Hannah, I especialy enjoyed these descriptive words that set a story for the imagination.

    “shoes turned out toward
    the street, as if the wearer had stepped out of them, through the glass and into the world”

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  2. I have done the first part...get out of bed and turn on the lamp but I don't think I had any of those lovely thoughts in my head...what was I thinking I have no idea now. You are awesome! xx

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  3. The fragility of plans and the illusory nature of the world contemplated late at night and near sleep. One of my favourites so far, this one.

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  4. Hi Hannah,
    Your poem recalls for me a pleasant state of mind, that should be weary (but isn't), that space between nodding off and sleep, where our minds can still function comfortably, but almost in a dreamlike state, and we are curled up cozy on a couch or a bed. So, I like the idea of planning at the same pace as recalling a dream, "kneading together the pieces."

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  5. I'm resisting right now. Blogging instead. ;-)

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  6. "...shipping away your time
    box by box" as in the boxes on a calendar, excellent choice of words, Hannah.

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  7. looove it. seems fitting for my current state of planning too... Happy New Year beautiful girl!!!!!!

    thea.
    xx

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