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The Sunday Poem: Julie Brokken... I Met Hafez

Strange things happen on the road. Unforgettable things. It is one of the great themes of literature. "I Met Hafez was inspired by actually having a flat tire as described and meeting a young man named Hafez who stopped to help me...sometimes the cosmos just hands you one."

Julie Brokken will be reading two poems published in Adobe Walls #3 at the Harwood Arts Center on October 8th.

I Met Hafez

Admit something: Everyone you see, you say to them, "Love me."

Of course you do not do this out loud, otherwise someone would call the cops.

Still, though, think about this, this great pull in us to connect. Why not become the one who lives with a full moon in each eye that is always saying, with that sweet moon language,
what every other eye in this world is dying to hear?     --Hafez 

I met Hafez       or he met me
on the side of a road going east
Superstition Highway to Apache Junction       or heaven
I was returning a borrowed bed to a friend

He drove up in a huge pickup truck
coming to my rescue
to change a flat tire
on a heavy humid August night

It was 10 pm on a desert scented Sunday
lightning storm fast approaching
we made electric small talk
in the disappearing moonlight

He grew up on a farm in Missouri
lived down a dirt road
I grew up on a farm in Iowa
lived near a dirt road

I met Hafez       or he met me
on the side of a road going east
Superstition Highway to Apache Junction
he drove up in a huge pickup truck

He was tall dark and handsome
strong broad farm boy shoulders
accustomed to labor and not resentful
hands well muscled with earthy wisdom

His name really was Hafez
a real Persian Adonis he was
he could be a poet
if he were so inclined

He had kind poet eyes
luminous soulful and dark
olive skin       black hair
smile as bright as the sweet moon

Hafez met me
on the side of a road going east
to Apache Junction       or heaven
he was coming to my rescue

He deftly lovingly happily
changed that flat tire
smiling widely all the while
I felt like Jesus was washing my feet

He was the calmness before the storm
the approaching wind rain lightning       too
he could be a poet
with that sweet moon language

I wanted to admit something
to say to him “Love me!”
with those kind poet eyes
hands well muscled with earthy wisdom

Yes! I really did meet Hafez
on the side of a road going east
Superstition Highway       to heaven
returning a borrowed bed

Of course you do not do this out loud
you do not make love at the side of a busy road
otherwise someone would call the cops
smiling widely all the while

Still, though, think about this
on a borrowed bed
accustomed to labor and not resentful
wind rain lightning fast approaching

this great pull in us to connect
Oh Hafez! so youthful beautiful happy
“Love me!” with those kind poet eyes
Oh Julie! to be 20 or 520 years younger

We met, Hafez and I
on a highway going to heaven
Why not become the one who lives with a full moon
in each eye       with that sweet moon language?

Oh Julie! Why didn’t you give Hafez your number!

--Julie Brokken

Poetry submissions are welcome. Email theditchrider@gmail.com.

5 members like this

Comment by Jules Nyquist on September 25, 2011 at 9:01am: Julie, this is wonderful, I like how you draw me in to the mystical connection the universe offers with synchronicity.

Comment by Susy Crandall on September 25, 2011 at 5:10pm: So beautiful, sensual, loving, wistful and yes, you can make love with no hands; especially loved the line about Jesus washing your feet.

Comment by cathyray on September 25, 2011 at 5:12pm: indeed, very wonderful! resonated with me for some reason that I don't know yet . . .

Comment by Dee Cohen on September 25, 2011 at 5:38pm: Hello Julie, I love how the poem keeps doubling back on itself, revisiting the potential in that mystical encounter. What are the chances of meeting a perfect stranger and happening to have a borrowed bed with you? See you 'round, Dee

Comment by Margaret Randall on September 25, 2011 at 6:34pm: This is a great poem about chance and what it may have in store for us, either in reality or in our dreams. Thank you.

Comment by Julie Brokken on September 25, 2011 at 9:21pm: Thank you all for your lovely words... I'm very touched to be able to share this poem with you all!

Comment by Ben Moffett on September 27, 2011 at 12:58pm: Wonderful poem. I loved it all, except for the last line. I liked the doubling back effect, too, especially when you doubled back "on a borrowed bed." Who knew your cargo had a purpose? This poem has a lot of stuff in it. It's a natural for a movie script, the plot is in place, the characters are strong, and the scenery is spectacular from Superstition Mountain to Apache Junction. And It's dark out there at night, even a clear night, when the stars are shining.

Comment by Ben Moffett on September 27, 2011 at 7:20pm: I hope you didn't regard it as a critical comment. It was meant to convey my own remembrances of regret when I was too shy to speak up.

Comment by Yasmeen Najmi on April 5, 2012 at 3:06pm: "Bless my soul I love ya, take this heart away, take these arms I'll never use and just believe in what these lips (eyes?) have to say..you give me fever." Julie, your poem gave me fever and made me wish for the next junction. Well done, amiga! :-)

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