My husband knows that I am madly in love with him and he also understands that every once in a while, I develop a poetry crush. I can’t help it.
I discovered Jonathan Humble’s poetry last year, through some amazing poetry journals. Every time I came across one of his poems, I held my breath and took in every word, as if each one was a gift. His writing is achingly beautiful, steeped in melancholy and introspection, but as I read more of his work, I found out that it can also be whimsical, satirical and sweet. His writing voice has immense range, and no matter what he is writing, he has an incredible power of language. I know that, like me, once you start reading his poetry, you will develop a poetry crush of your own.
Then It Rains
You ask on my behalf to rise and leave,
to dress without the hindrance
of bootlace worms returning at our feet.
In vain we anticipate permission from spiders
who watch in shadows, spinning webs
that constrain all action.
Standing, squatting, sitting, we are opposed,
resisted. We are tangled marionettes,
linked with quantum string, each responding
with confused counter movement.
Blink my dears; so many eyes feel the tension
of our unseen bonds. These rainmaker thoughts,
connected across a web of reverberating nonsense
and countless coils, speak to me with jaded explanations;
there are no options again today. So you tell me
that we have to stay and wait.
And I have to listen. So I listen.
Then it rains.