Worlds Away

what the nomad brought home

Foreigner

In poetry, I lived
While with you I lived alone,
Y pensaba que nunca lo comprenderías
Because we didn’t speak the same language.
So I shouted with my pen
Because you just couldn’t understand me;
Lay myself bare,
Knowing full well that you wouldn’t touch me;
And waited behind transparent verses
That I realized would never attract a penetrating glance.
It’s only once I’d finally gone away
That you noticed my parting footprints on the page —
Only once you were far beyond the echo of my voice
That you heard what I was saying.

June 29, 2009 - Posted by | Writing | , , , ,

7 Comments »

  1. Twenty! you are around again.. nice..

    maybe you will explain me the spanish part..
    i can see you shouting with your pen 🙂

    Comment by Utopian Fragments | June 30, 2009 | Reply

  2. She saw your footprints
    She heard an echo
    In her heart she has found you..
    to find love
    is a blessing
    all she wants is to thank you…

    Comment by shraddha | June 30, 2009 | Reply

    • Shraddha, thank you. I am both glad — and sorry — that this one touched a chord with you.

      Comment by 20yearsfromnow | July 2, 2009 | Reply

  3. Hi, Dhyan/fragments! 🙂 The line in Spanish says, “And I thought that you would never understand (it).” (The ex-partner who inspired this was a native speaker of Spanish, so I was playing around with the disjuncture of communication.)

    Comment by 20yearsfromnow | June 30, 2009 | Reply

    • i love and appreicate so much inter national, langauge, cultural realtionship. to me, they are so demending, always asking for more understanding, more relaxing, more watching of how i act, what i say, how i respond. they contain so much teaching, so many ways to grow and learn, of myself, of my culture, of my parents, of my love and feeelings, and thoughs, of life. and almost never boring.

      hope you are good….
      D! (or fragments any way you choose)

      Comment by Utopian Fragments | June 30, 2009 | Reply

      • Yes, Dhyan, cross-cultural relationships teach us much. This poem was actually from over a year ago, and I just stumbled upon it again, so I put it out here. I had been for 3 or 4 years with a “foreigner,” and I wrote this a few months after our relationship ended. This poem is also about the fact that he used to criticize me for wanting to be a writer, laughed at the hobby. As I said, we didn’t speak the same language. Understanding is important, but be careful to respect your own boundaries when you compromise in the name of cultural sensitivity.

        Comment by 20yearsfromnow | July 2, 2009

  4. Very nice writing. I can empathize, touching.

    Comment by Vic | August 25, 2009 | Reply


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