Home » Poetry – She Spins

Poetry – She Spins


Thursday, June 20, 2019
10:54 AM
Christopher Canchola
Tempe, AZ
chris.a.canchola@gmail.com

atlas
noun
at·​las | \ ˈat-ləs \
Definition of atlas
1: a Titan who for his part in the Titans’ revolt against the gods is forced by Zeus to support the heavens on his shoulders

2: one who bears a heavy burden

3: a bound collection of maps of the world, often including illustrations, informative tables, or textual matter

A poem dedicated to friendships that catch, even the most prepared, by surprise.

She spins 100+ lines

The Earth
Four point six billion years, trillions of days
Spins, Thousand miles per hour
Twenty-four, to rotate
First sunset, empty space
Gas, water vapor, asteroids, comets
Crash.
Oceans, bacteria, photosynthesis
Food, sustenance, oxygen
At last
Cold, analytical, lifeless
Facts

At last
At last
At last
At last

Then she became, and said

“My Atlas, at last
Open where you may
my time with you is limitless
point, and lead the way”

Breathe in

Roses, daffodils, carnations

Play.

Smell
“Iris, lilacs, jasmine, dear”
Hear
“Concertos, Symphonies, Sonatas, dear”
Taste
“melons, berries, citrus, stone fruit, dear”
Touch
“craters, grass, wool, mud, skin, dear”
See
“twilights, sunshine, clouds, rain, dear”

The years went by, albeit for her it made no change
Immortal in her beauty, living, full of grace.
Harmony, perfection, nothing evanescent
A century, a moment,
not a wrinkle, not a difference
Not a passion, no significance
All in order,
All is one,
All with reason,

Ohne mischief,
Ohne hatred
Ohne love

But one day, my dearest, In search for nothing, and owning everything, walked around her full garden aimlessly, and discovered a sick man by a tree.

She wish to speak to the sick man, for he was the first of his kind that my dearest had encountered, but before she could have the chance to say anything, the sick man replied

“In pursuit of this mountain’s peak, I will die on the sides of it”

Innocently, my dearest asked “Is there anything that I can do for you?”

the old man replied

“could you step outside the sunlight please?”

“I’m so sorry…perhaps I could carry you to the top?”

“no”

“are you sure?”

“yes, here lies springs, animals, fruits, and enough steepness to cause heavy breath”

My dearest stood there confused, blinking

With his last breath the sick man gave one last hopeful platitude

“My dearest, it is the sides of mountains that are full of life”

“My Atlas, At last, I’m ready for it all”
Though, her Atlas replied
“pride comes before the fall”

She became, and still she was.
For a while, for some time.
But then,
My dearest,
she had slipped
She had tripped
As she was there, still she was
She became,
Axis broke

Full of life, then she spun,

Axis tipped,
And she spun,
And she spun,
For a while, for some time
Fatigue in her ankles,
And a soreness in her thighs,
My dearest, she collapsed
And the Atlas, he then chimed
“My beauty, my grace, you heeded my advice”
“Now you’re ugly, you are wretched, every moment evanescent”
“Feeling sorrow, feeling hatred, you will breathe in desolation”
“Life is bleak, are you shameless? my dearest you are naked”

She covered herself with a light fabric, stood back up, and whispered,

“The Earth, At this very moment, I breathe, Today”
Thousand miles per hour
Twenty-four, to rotate
First sunset, empty space
Gas, water vapor, asteroids, comets
Crash.
Oceans, bacteria, photosynthesis
Food, sustenance, oxygen
At last
Cold, analytical, lifeless
Facts
“Your beauty, oh so rash, though I finally understand”

At last
At last
At last
At last

Ohne an Atlas

My lady, she spun

My dearest, she danced.

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