lost & found

...

i lost it somewhere between
the water can and the moon -
that little round bell of laughter
that used to bob within my heart
when the world weighed in
too solemnly

it liquified and ran
beneath the door of
late night, some november ago...
no letter of resignation
no parting gift,
save spot stains
dry and absurd

time began to tell the truth
i spoke in whole sentences,
even the rain forgot
how to misbehave

i searched the pockets of my coats...
the margins of neglected books...
beneath the bed with
that one sock
that never believed in pairs...

then one very common wednesday
it returned
wearing someone else’s face -
a stranger on the bus
who sneezed in three-part harmony
and apologized to the window!

the sound clattered inside my chest
like a marble in an empty mosque.
i felt my mouth betray me
and without permission, tickled

there it was:
not bright, nor loud
but quiet as a mote
learning
to cha-cha in a shaft of light

i sought not to grab it
but only opened my hands...
the way you open a window
for a bird
that already knows the way home

now it lives here again,
perched
on the windowsill of my pulse;
sometimes dropping feathers
of sheer nonsense
to the serious soup of the day

aswell, i remember:
the ulna and my humerus make
a very fine spoon

...

Reviews

[JustPlainHere]

I love this poem. The linear path from the loss of the ability to experience true joy to the moment the narrator found it escaping from them again is palpable within the rich images provided. The windowsill on your pulse is gold, as is the opening of hands. Hope to see your continuing and inspiring play on words.

[Michael Sun Bear]

This really does sound here and there like complete nonsense. In Greenland of all places do you play with marbles in empty mosques? Your pulse has a windowsill? What medication has your doctor prescribed for that? “Feathers of sheer nonsense” definitely ARE dropping.

[Timeless]

Did you really write this? Or is it AI? WHY DOES YOUR WRITING READ LIKE ARTIFICIAL? I bet alot of older MALE poets review you because of your avatar but you write like AI... HMM OLDER MALE POET ARE ALWAYS ATTRACTED TO PRETTY AVATARS! EVEN IF IT’S ARTIFICIAL POETRY AS LONG AS THE AVATAR IS FEMALE , Young AND PRETTY. How about writing with your actual thoughts. And not use AI and a pretty avatar for reviews. If I wanted ai writing I can just read it from an ai! Atleast it has an ai voice to read it. Try again.

[Lara]

Thanks.
Apparently the declaration of independence is ai, too!
And if 48 is young (and pretty), I'm doubly flattered. ✨️
God bless.

[Timeless]

48 year old man! This is AI

[Timeless]

Fake!!!! Avatar fake artificial poetry. You are the problem to all poets

[Lara]

That's what a drug-free life can do for you, hun. Feel free to try it sometime... 😊

[Timeless]

Lara, you're on drugs to be using an avatar of a young person and also admitting to be nearly 50 years old
Cat fish much?

[Curly Grace]

my word...
well, you're having fun this morning. where I'm at, it's 2 am. I hope your day gets much calmer than this. sending joy.

[Dale Pavolko]

Lara, this poem is already the kind of piece people will carry in their heads for decades and quote when they need proof that joy can come back wearing a stranger’s ridiculous sneeze. Protect it. Print it. Read it aloud to anyone who still believes lightness and depth can’t live in the same room.

It’s a quiet masterpiece. Thank you for letting it exist.

[Lara]

Thank you, Dale.
And I think you're absolutely right: the list like insert (coat pockets and such) could be quite redundant.
Thank you 🫶

[---]

Hah! that didn't take long.

Glad to see some well earned recognition here.

Quite like your fifth stanza, last stanza made me chuckle. Those are some very particular bones.

Thanks for sharing.

[Lara]

O, .. am so glad you're still here.
Thank you for your encouraging words 🙏

[Curly Grace]

I adore this one. love this bit:
i sought not to grab it
but only opened my hands...
the way you open a window
for a bird
that already knows the way home
beautifully written Lara

[Lara]

Thank you, Sarah 🙏

[red93]

So interesting Lara how you follow the mazy progress of thought and emotions in this Piece but retain control of the material. Exceptional ✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

[Lara]

Mazy... yep. That sounds about right, red 😆
I appreciate you, and hope you are well 🙏

[red93]

Many Thanks for yr Good Wishes Lara. I'm happy atm touch wood - I just got Paid 😁

[Vol]

Lara,
My, you do know how to turn a phrase... each one whole and pretty. The mysterious "it" like a butterfly constantly darting behind leaves and limbs, so it's hard to see... just like its antecedent.
This one leaves me feeling the same way I do when I'm confronted by some small bit of beauty strong enough to make me pause and stare for a minute, might even throw in a sigh...
Vol

[Lara]

You're so right, Vol. Small beauty is a simultaneous big deal 🙏

[Timeless]

It's ai poetry and a young, pretty female avatar that does it for these old.poets!

[S.zaynab.kamoonpury]

Wow a brill poem love the mention of mosque and how it ends with biological mentions. Kudos!!

Plz also read and comment my newest poem here

[Lorry]

Great opening line, which is as vague as we are most of the time yet expansive at the same time, leaving the door wide open to where you are going with this write.
The loss of laughter is as serious as it gets because it is an emotion and a connection to others and when you feel joyless it can grow until it consumes you, without forewarning as you stated. It can take even the most basic of everyday functions and make them soul crushingly impossible and turns your bed into a cross between Velcro and a magnet that's pull is too strong to break.
And before you knew it, it returned. Again no fanfare or warning, but when it starts dropping nonsense into your soup of the day, then maybe not all is well but you are on the right track at least.
And im never drinking soup again without thinking of my humerus! 😀