Slavia

Slavia

My stomach burns
With the quaking tide,
When you play with my toes,
When you tickle my pride.

Take me away
To your far away land,
Buried like dust
In the prints of your hand,

Where your smile doesn't crack,
And fade,
Before the hours
Draw into days.

I lay in the bed
Of a perfect stranger.
I played with his words,
Mimicking danger,

And he begged me to tell him
My endless verses,
Beneath the morning’s
Sleepless curses.

His fingers played
With the curve of my side.
I told him of
The day I died ―

A secret I guarded
So closely from you.
I told him the truth.
I told no one I knew.


Written by Anna Williams at Age 17
Washington, D.C.

http://freepoemsonline.blogspot.com
Free Poems

4 comments:

Dan said...

Anna,
Very interesting. It has a definite senual tone. I'm unclear on the meaning though...so many possibilities. I'm curious!!

Anna said...

Well, lets see. That poem referred to Cafe Slavia in Prague, Czech Republic, which has been famous for a long time for lots of reasons but, for me, was where I hung out when I was 17.

The first three stanzas refer to a person, J. He had temporarily agreed to hitch-hike with me to Africa. Within a few days he changed his mind upon hearing from his friends about something somewhat spiritual that I had once said while intoxicated.

The last few stanzas refer to something that happened later with W. W. was also American (as was J.) and I met him on the infamous and horrific night bus. I missed my stop while talking to him (also about Africa) and spent the night in his flat but with chastity complete.

The last stanza would refer to the fact that I had confided in him regarding a friend I had once lost. That was something I otherwise never spoke to about with anyone in that city at that time.

Maybe I should write a book of explanations for my poetry? Haha.

Dan said...

All of the conjoured ideas I had were completely inaccurate. It's interesting that you integrated so many different occurances into one piece. With the smooth flow I would have thought it was regarding one particular place & time; a testament to your abilities!

Anna said...

Haha. Thanks. I guess that's one thing that is important about poetry - that anyone can make something out of it. Even if everyone gets their own image ...

 

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