I did not stop marching toward life. <br />-Neruda <br /> <br />Wounded as I was- <br />by the madmen, <br />the daft Hamlets with poems <br />in their hair, <br />the chill men who wanted <br />to fuck their way <br />into my warmth <br />& leave me <br />cold, <br />the half-baked <br />novelists, the doctors <br />who could not heal <br />themselves, <br />the actors <br />who could not remember <br />their lines, <br />the professors <br />I had to teach; <br />all the Persons <br />from Porlock <br />invading the heart <br />of my poem- <br />I did not stop <br />marching toward <br />love; <br />I did not seal off <br />my heart. <br /> <br />& then you appeared- <br />suddenly, <br />unexpectedly- <br />as life is always <br />unexpected. <br />The new baby <br />arriving <br />in the same radiance- <br />an ordinary face <br />suddenly turning <br />extraordinary- <br />eyes, nose, mouth <br />suddenly <br />indispensable, <br />suddenly <br />beautiful <br />beyond <br />explanation, <br />suddenly necessary <br />as rain. <br /> <br />Because <br />I did not stop marching, <br />because <br />I never let the scar tissue <br />form, <br />because <br />my heart is open <br />to ache, <br />because <br />my legs will twine <br />around a new lover <br />& mean it <br />(as if love could last)- <br />you <br />marched into my life. <br /> <br />You marched in <br />sloping in to the wind, <br />your hair combed <br />as if with a fork, <br />your face sweet & open <br />as a puppy's <br />& starving for love & for warmth <br />as a Dickens hero. <br /> <br />O my Pip, <br />my Oliver, <br />my Copperfield- <br />how I want to hold you <br />& make it all <br />all right. <br /> <br />Let me march <br />toward life <br />before you. <br />There is nothing to fear <br />but <br /> <br />stopping.<br /><br />Erica Jong<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/toward-life/
