Sunday, 20 February 2011

Tea and Biscuits

I dispose of myself bag by bag.
Cell by cell.

I don’t own anything from before the war.
I no longer fight the good fight.
I no longer can.

Confrontation wins war.
Not care. Not love. Not kindness.

I cannot confront myself.
I cannot stomach a war.
And yet I cannot be kind.

I can’t think of anyone else who would do this he said.
But it was too late.
They already had.
Quietly.
Behind the safety of enemy lines.

All I want is a cup of tea.
Maybe a biscuit.
A warm house to sit in.

The bags tie up easily although I struggle to carry them out.
They weigh as much as my body.
They weigh as much as me.

If I have nothing left then no more can be lost.

Nobody sees me dispose of myself after dark.
Nobody sees my feet tremble over the yellow lines.
My arms buckle.
My head spin.

I hear voices behind me and above me.
I am no longer sure if they belong to you.
There is so much time between callings that I have forgotten who you are.

There will be no letter sent home.
There is no home.
No people waiting.

I feel the weight of that.

My body.
3 am.
Blinking in the light I have to put on.

A light by which I can see every weapon of my war.
A light which does not forgive me and the murder I have caused.
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28 comments:

  1. Old Egg20 February 2011 at 04:05

    This is starting to be even more climactic. I like the allusion of carrying out her bags which I read as a metaphor of herself (perhaps?). The empty hopelessness is awful to contemplate as is the inability to forgive herself of her past.

    This sad writing illustrates so well the inability of coping with such a deep depression and makes the reader suffer equally.

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  2. Jae Rose20 February 2011 at 04:10

    Thank you OldEgg- although not good to pass along suffering..sharing understanding is a three-course feast..Jae

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  3. Deborah20 February 2011 at 04:15

    I feel I want to talk with person, there is just soo much more behind every line, just brilliantly written.

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  4. Jae Rose20 February 2011 at 04:24

    Thank you Deborah, layers as confused as a sherry trifle..but not quite as fun! Jae

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  5. Lilibeth20 February 2011 at 06:22

    "There is no home. No people waiting." I feel you have taken us into her very mind.

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  6. Jae Rose20 February 2011 at 07:01

    Than you Lilibeth..Jae

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  7. Josie Two Shoes20 February 2011 at 07:23

    Powerful writing Jaerose! I could see images of myself and my life in some of the words here.

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  8. Jae Rose20 February 2011 at 07:25

    Thank you JTS...Jae

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  9. LeiffyV20 February 2011 at 08:06

    "They weigh as much as my body. They weigh as much as me." This is a great stroke of genius right here! The weight of the bags might be physically heavy but how can one place a weight value on the weight of the world weighing on one's mind? You just did!

    Great piece, Jae! I can't wait to hear more about this war, whether it is internal or external.

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  10. Catherine Denton20 February 2011 at 09:15

    The emotion in this is spellbinding. I love it.

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  11. Altonian20 February 2011 at 09:29

    Enormously expressive of great turmoil and, shall I say it, desperation. Not to be read by the faint-hearted! Very well done.

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  12. Reflections20 February 2011 at 10:01

    Expressive depth finds turmoil within this lost soul... very well written.

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  13. Unknown20 February 2011 at 10:49

    Dear Jae,
    This one, filled with imagery and allusion washed me over with grief and pain. I felt a literal, physical sensation.(of course, could be a side-effect of 5 days of Vicodin following thumb reconstruction on Tuesday afternoon ;-}.
    "The fixer" I have been most of my life wanted to do just that - fix it. The more accepting person I am becoming wants to offer loving support.
    VERY evocative writing.

    ~KIM

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  14. Anonymous20 February 2011 at 12:29

    Such tunneling despair--I love the way you captured how everything gets closed off; "I have forgotten who you are." Incredible writing!

    Kate

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  15. Susannah20 February 2011 at 12:34

    Full of the kind of imagery that could suggest so many things, vague enough to be a hook upon which your readers can hang their own projections.

    Emotive and wonderful writing as always Jae.

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  16. M. Reka20 February 2011 at 13:48

    Beautiful writing, Jaerose. love it!
    Short Poems

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  17. rebecca20 February 2011 at 16:51

    Wow. Standing ovation. This was one piece of excellent writing...

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  18. flaubert20 February 2011 at 17:23

    Depressing jae, but absolutely, brilliantly written. I enjoy your writing, so much.

    Pamela

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  19. Jae Rose21 February 2011 at 05:45

    Thank you Leiffy - there's always more about the war..

    Thank you Catherine and Altonian for your continued comments and support..

    Thank you so Reflections..

    Thank you Kim - and for the support - I hope your thumb is on the fix..

    Thank you Kate..(great comment)

    Thank you Susannah - I am glad other people can find a way into the words..

    Thank you Marinela..

    Thank you Rebecca..

    Thank you as always Pamela..

    Jae :)

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  20. Roan21 February 2011 at 12:16

    Brilliant. I felt the weight of spirit. Very well written!

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  21. Anonymous21 February 2011 at 19:26

    i wonder how long it takes to discover the war within oneself, slowly disappearing, one day gone... taking out the trash can be a scary thing... on trash day there apparently seems to be nothing left... the weight of one's trash is heavier than the carrier... now that's a line...

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  22. Jae Rose22 February 2011 at 03:47

    Thank you BJ..and thank you MsPie..I hope one day for it to be gone..

    Jae

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  23. Thom Gabrukiewicz22 February 2011 at 07:12

    You create and carry feelings through your words the reader has to feel. I just love your style.

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  24. Jae Rose22 February 2011 at 07:30

    Thanks so much Thom..Jae

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  25. RJ Clarken22 February 2011 at 08:17

    What a terrible despair. How dreadful to be at war with the very things which make up oneself, I hope one day this unbearable weight is lifted, but in a good and happy way.

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  26. Abigail Bunting22 February 2011 at 18:07

    'If I have nothing left then no more can be lost.
    Nobody sees me dispose of myself after dark.
    Nobody sees my feet tremble over the yellow lines.'
    Resonating-made me shiver!

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  27. Dee Martin23 February 2011 at 05:00

    you always leave me with more questions than answers...I know of absolutely NO ONE else of all the stuff I read, that has your style or feel for creating atmosphere with words. I go from feeling like I know you intimately to having no clue. You craft such stark pictures of a person in turmoil but with a gentleness and deep love. You leave me thinking and the as always - wishing for a sit down face to face and pot of tea.

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  28. Jae Rose23 February 2011 at 05:16

    Thank you very much LightVerse..

    Thank you also Abigail..

    And Dee - thank you - even if grim I am glad there is a small amount of gentleness and love in there..would also like to share a 'cuppa' with you anytime..

    Jae

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