Friday, December 4, 2009


i do not mean to see this thing
this most private of commissions
but the eye captures
before the mind receives

i see you falling
there are no elegant words you know
arms and legs like a ballerina
(there i tried)
and it seems to wink
and beckon
and pose
the act that is
and you

is it your desire to ensure
you will die all the way that makes
you fling yourself from so high up
is it your desire to ensure
you will haunt forever those who see
you die before you die
is it your desire to feel the
that strike us all dumb while
you fall through the purple dusk

but my thoughts stray

how many had
offered you their favors
but but but
how many had
told you to call and
not given you a number
how many had
asked how you are and
not listened for your answer
how many had
stabbed you
because they knew
you knew them not

how many will
you scar
and mar
for life
with this greatest betrayal
to those who love you most

but that is
a cruel thought on my part
of a selfish act on yours
and because there are no elegant words
i am being inelegantly judgmental

you fall

we freeze

a man's leg cocked in anticipation of his next step
a woman's teeth touching at half-grind
car wheels jammed in semi-rotation
raindrops deadlocked in air

you are an object in the sky
falling through the exile of the purple dusk

you are an object in the sky
dancing your final pas de deux in the arms of the air

you are the sky
picking the clinging stars out of your hair

you are the sky
falling and embracing and kissing the ground


  1. I made my way to a blog that i love. A dance of words expressiing strong feelings,and
    I're an object in the sky falling through the exile of the purple dusk..
    I love the scent of bitterness that comes out of your poem. Your poem is a gem.
    Thanks Nevine for being a great blog pal.
    Love and hugs and hugs.

  2. Beautiful words of bitter expressions. Uniquely done and powerful, as always Nevine. Hugs!!!

  3. Sweet Nevine,

    I always get so excited just before popping open your blog.

    This was fascinating and much suffering and yet so beautiful.

    much love

  4. wow . powerful . i am even take this as a personal , for me . because i saw many things in it that could have my name .
    and thank you Nevine .

  5. Oh MY. Nevine dear how I love your work. This is divine and powerful and full of messages. Misterious eternal... and I LOVE it!
    Thanks for being so GOOD!
    Again I feel lucky I 've found you!

  6. Nevine

    As powerful as ever. "..picking the clinging stars out of your hair" - expressive and sensitive.

  7. Your work always amazes me....the way you mold beauty and pain together, truly a work of art...your work always touches my soul, this was no best friend recently killed herself and I found myself feeling alot of what you write......Oh nevine, truly you are an artist


  8. Nevine...

    You are so ...

    This poem is . . .

    Your words are . . .

    You can see, I am speechless...

    I may come back later, right now, my mind has shut down, gone dumb, short circuited by too much . . .

  9. As I am wont to do, I started highlighting lines for which I had comments and found I was highlighting practically the entire poem! You have a gift for producing images and feelings with unexpected, evocative, minimalist synthesis. And isn't that the hallmark of a great poet? Thank you again

  10. Betty - If you love the bitterness then you're definitely in the right boat. And you are the one who is a great blog pal, my dear. In fact, you're awesome!

    Roxy - "Bitter" again. But suicide is a terribly bitter business. Thank you, Roxy.

    Stacey - I love your new profile icon; that's very cute. And I'm always excited by your visits. So you better keep coming by!

    Caio - Thank you, and I'm sorry if you identify with some of this. Life can be very dark, sometimes.

    Dulce - I am the lucky one, to have such an appreciating blog buddy. You're too dulce, Dulce. ;-)

    Martin - Sensitive I felt, but my words seemed to come out harsh. I'm glad they read softer to you than they rang in my head.

    Steven - I'm sorry you lost your best friend, and I hope you did find some peace in reading this. Losing someone who is dear so tragically can only be an emotionally debilitating experience.

    Owen - I hope you will find your tongue and, in fact, return. You've got me hanging by a thread. I'll be waiting for you...

    Judith - I have this same tendency - to highlight as I read. And I'm flattered that you would want to highlight this entire piece. I am happy you enjoyed it so much.

  11. It might be obvious because you mentioned ballet at the beginning but what I felt on reading your poem was the instant when the dancer's feet leave the ground and they find themselves in mid air waiting for gravity to do its bit. Of all the art forms dance is the most ephemeral. Theatre can be filmed and movies are made specially for the big screen. Painting, sculptures, photography can be and are kept for centuries to come. Dance only lasts the night of the performance. It dies at the end. You can film dance, but it's not the same. Even with a good camera crew, you won't be able to capture the twists and turns, the passion, the selflessness of the dancer. I'm not just referring to ballet, but rather to dance per se.

    I felt that through your poem.

    'you fall

    we freeze'

    This was a key phrase for me. I literally freeze on the edge of my seat whenever I see a good dance show. And a music one, too, of course, but dance gets to me. Maybe because I, too, have been on that same stage, and have fallen, making the audience freeze.

    This was a beauty. Many thanks.

    Greetings from London.

  12. Such description of such hard things-much feeling in those words.

  13. That frozen fall is dazzling, even if it threatens to destroy all. Yet, somehow, I feel like it never will finally hit.

  14. Somehow I know this person you describe, and it is very eerie, this knowing. I want to shake people that have this effect. But somehow they have a purpose on our hearts... (don't they?)

  15. This poem...has your eyes looking into some of my own shattered windows. i would even go to say that you wrote it for me. touching something gentle, like a footstep into my temple, looking at the fresques peeling on its walls in silence!
    this is beautiful as you are!
    As you always shall be for me!

  16. For only a couple weeks have we been acquainted in this blogosphere. But in that brief time I've discovered that you are one of the master wordsmiths here.

    Your work shines mysteriously

  17. Hi again, well, I wouldn't want to keep you hanging, or see you hanging, for that matter, unless it were to see you hanging out at a local country music bar... well, isn't that what everyone in San Antone does on a Saturday night ???

    And I partially found my tongue, after being floored by your poem here, but I found my tongue while crafting a little bit of a post over at my place, so if you care to see what has been said about your good self and your writing there, you are welcome, I invite you to stop by and take a peek, if you have a second of course, if you are curious, naturally...

    And a fine weekend to you Nevine, I'm glad that this one was not autobiographical as well... honestly...

  18. Nevine, you've got to enter this into a competition or something. It's enthralling! I was watching the person fall through the sky through your words and you captured everything I felt, the horror, the judgement, the sympathy, the regret. I don't know if this person was man or woman, old or young, but none of that matters. It's the human spirit that matters and that's what you captured in this piece.


  19. I am reminded of the image of the 'falling man' from 9/11. That was a powerful picture for so many reasons and this poem made me think of all those people who jumped rather than face the alternative. Very moving.

  20. we see it coming yet can't stop ourselves from falling... we are but human.

  21. human eye capturing every moment,capturing the final flight of a man.loved the part where you used the "ballerina" to describe in an elegant way.the final fall of a man was very well portrayed here and it was really very beautiful even though this poem describes strong emotions of desperation of a man who succumbs to such methods.this was a complicated poem i had to read it 3-4 times so that my eye could see every moment which you captured in your words.time slowing down in that moment for everyone was well written.this was a very well written piece of poem.keep writing!!

  22. Cuban - I can relate to what you are describing, entirely. And I am fascinated by all the different facets we can read in between words that allow them to create relevant meaning for ourselves only. Our experiences so color how we see things, don't they. It's always a pleasure to read and share yours. Thank you much.

    Secretia - Thank you; you are so kind.

    Jason - You are the eternal optimist; I like that. :-)

    Cat - We all know this person, I think, or at least know some part of him or her. For me, this person has a profound effect on how I interpret reality. Like you say, "They have a purpose on our hearts."

    Craftsman - I am holding your hand. Can you feel it? I hope you can.

    Steve - You are so gentle and kind, and I so appreciate having you here.

    Owen - Well, I think I said it all in your comments box. But I'll say just a wee bit of it again, over here. You are awesome! And I'm so honored to know you. (Wait - did I use those words over there? I don't think so...) And by the way, I wasn't out getting schnockered in San Antone; I'm too afraid of receiving a stray bullet to the head. San Antone is a dangerous city on Friday night. I stay home and enjoy the drunken bliss of wining and dining where I know I will be safe. Merci, Owen. Et maintenant, tu m'as fais sourire! :-)

    Jai - I'm happy to know you read this as genderless, although the image would suggest a woman. The truth is that men and women, both, experience feelings like this. And there is nothing in life to put us into any boxes, at that point. Thank you for seeing inside this human spirit, Jai.

    Mme. DeFarge - Once again, I am struck with the diversity of the interpretations, and I am particularly struck with yours. The "falling man" and all of those who jumped felt like they had no other choice, as did my character, here. Your comment took me to another dimension of thought, as your comments always do. Thank you for that.

    Shadow - And we are so weak, though we would like to think ourselves otherwise, no?

    Heavealie - Welcome to my world. And I'm glad you read this as being about a man. Man or woman, it makes no difference - we all have this feeling, sometimes. Thank you for coming here, joining me, and leading me back your way.

  23. I like the way that you write... I connected to you through shadow's blog this is my first visit.

    The following was my favorite part:
    "a man's leg cocked in anticipation of his next step
    a woman's teeth touching at half-grind
    car wheels jammed in semi-rotation
    raindrops deadlocked in air"

    Kindest regards,
    Tom Bailey

  24. absolutely riveting! powerful and beautiful! and a fall that far too many of us have witnessed - but beautifully and honestly portrayed by your magnificent words! as always!

  25. This is like sitting down watching the whole thing with my own eyes. Did the person jump, or were they pushed by lack of support from the ones around them? Suicide, no matter if it was assisted, is a great betrayal to those that love the ones who chose this route. Your words, so creatively written takes a little of the sting out of it, and answers so many questions too.

    I am thinking of my friend, who last year, put a gun in her mouth on Christmas eve, and left her small children a pitiful legacy. I am still upset with her!

    Nevine, you are so very gifted, as your poetry shed creative light on many subject that touches us all!

  26. I can hear your voice in this like a quiescent narrator, while someone is "freefalling" from a ledge. That point where time seems to stand still and there's a disturbing hush where even the wind watches breathlessly. The person is in that small window of time is freer than they have ever been in their entire existence, even though they have spiraled out of control. I judge no one for taking ones life for I am not the Creator. I've been at the critical moment and it is a selfish way to think because one only wants an escape from what burdens them without regard for others around them, be it family, friends, etc. The last four stanzas was a kind of tragic yet beautifully melancholic transformation from being an object to the sky itself.

  27. Tom - It's good to see you here. Thank you for visiting and commenting, and I certainly hope you will not be a stranger!

    Gypsywoman - Oh, I get the warm fuzzies at such praise from you! Thank you for always and always flattering me.

    Amias - "Did the person jump, or...?" I don't think I can ever answer that question, and I don't think that even the person ever really knows. There are so many things that happen to us that make such an impact on us and turn us into the behavior machines we are. I've come to believe that there is no such thing as free will, and I know that even psychological science has produced lab studies and reports to indicate that free will is a fabrication of human arrogance. We are so shaped by all of the stimuli surrounding us, and some things push us and some things pull us. I'm so sorry about the loss of your friend, Amias. That can't have been easy for you, and must have been especially trying for her children.

    Sharla - I don't judge either, but sometimes I am angered by the person's lack of regard for others. But, looking on the other side of things, I think that someone who either flings himself or finds himself falling is usually beyond objective thinking. The moment of becoming the sky is that moment where we lose ourselves, and you understood it just perfectly, Sharla. Always perceptive, you are!

  28. We must be on the same wavelength! Good morning beautiful!

  29. you are so right about the person's being so far beyond objective thinking, nevine, once they reach a certain point - my oldest daughter's husband and father of her three children committed suicide after years and years of battling his demons - we all watched him free-fall for years before the final fall - i would like to comment more but simply am unable to - a beautiful post, again, dear nevine!

  30. Profound and compelling.
    You've expressed with words and I've received, with such a force. Love the effect powerful writing has on me, and this is powerful writing, Nevine!


  31. Sharla - And now it's evening time down south... have a good one!

    Gypsywoman - I can understand your loss for words; what a terrible tragedy, and a heartbreaking loss for your daughter and her children. I can't even begin to imagine the pain. I try to imagine, but reality is reality, and no imagination is as biting as this pain.

    Calli - Thank you, Calli. You are so kind and I feel flattered to get such a nice comment from you, such a gifted writer.

  32. I don't know what I can say that others haven't. Your poetry always feels like a freefall to me--I fall into your words, your rhythm, the circle of truths, even in a contradiction. What was most stunning here was how you turned it around at the end. She (or he) becoming some form of eternal energy. I found a hope in that, an uplifting in spite of the anger, the selfishness of the act. Like you wanted to spare her the final impact.

    The stutter of "but but but" caught me, too. How many excuses we are capable of making, how much like martyrs we might want to be, when not feeling loved or understood.

    Stunning work, Nevine. I'm sorry I haven't been commenting lately, but it's never because I'm not overcome and transported by what you write. You are a magician with words, my friend!

  33. the "freefall" of self-destruction against the grace and fluidity of ballet is astounding in this - as is the total, unadorned honesty of the observer who tries to understand. perhaps "there are no elegant words" - but this is as close as anyone can get, i think. beautifully raw and painfully tender work.

  34. This is soooooo fabulous and powerful

  35. Sarah - First off, any visits from you are welcome, regular or not. And there is no reason for you to be apologizing for not coming often, though I do like it when you stop in. But I understand that everyone has other responsibilities in life besides blogging. Secondly, your comments make me smile because I had some feelings of guilt over the judgmental tone I injected into parts of this piece; I just felt like I had to be true to my true feelings on the whole matter. So I'm glad that some of the tenderness and acceptance and love came through. Thank you, Sarah, as always, for being a discerning reader. I really appreciate that.

    Joaquin - Thank you so very much. I don't know if you know this but I'm just beaming with joy when I get good feedback from you. You are a gifted and talented poet, and your opinion counts big time!

    Turquoise - You are too kind. Thank you! :-)


Your thoughts are deeply appreciated.