The little girl found the white flower too
She touched it and it gifted her with a petal soft and warm
She held it next to her cigarette
Drank it in
For a moment it quelled the red pen the black eyes
Lines of emptiness.
We are not filled up
Not like the little girls downstairs
They are touched softly
like children
arms soothed shoulders rubbed hands held
warm soft petals of care of helping.
Nobody touches us.
We reach out in screams and bangs
We throw out edges hoping for a gentle return.
But no one can be mustered to smooth us
weknowweknow we have always known.
We are the ward where nobody visits
Where we calcify and rust.
We are thorns.
The rough soil that strangles the flower.
I am so thirsty.
Empty.
I hitch my jeans.
I am losing.
I am losing everything.
Soon the white flower will be empty too
All the petals spent.
Our hands will stay empty.
And the cold will be etched on us forever.
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20 comments:
We don't know the future. That word "forever" should be stricken from our language! It only seems like the cold will be etched on you forever but it doesn't have to be! Keep fighting!
Dear Jae, you get to the heart. The gritty truth... but... truth is relative, and perhaps it is only winter, when all things are sleeping... before you know it, it will be spring. And the white flowers, that we thought had died, will return. When we think we are losing or dying, perhaps it is only winter, and we will also return in the spring. It seems right, and I hope this for you. The sun will return and we will be warm again. I am hoping for the best outcome that can be. Like the native people, I will shoot off my gun, I will dance by the fires, and all the while I will hold you tenderly in a very special place. And you will know, that it is so...
"We throw out edges hoping for a gentle return" Such words are such a puzzle for the reader who tries to find a word of encouragement but fears that there will not be a gentle return if we do so as our understanding is so shallow.
Your writing tests us to the limit as we wonder at the meaning to try to share the pain.
The pain and truth, the consequence, of abuse and neglect shriek off the page here, Jae. You've captured it all and drawn a swift parallel between the adored and protected and the abused and neglected. Brilliant write. You give voice to so much, so well. Be well!
I'm at a loss of words to say Jae except that your writing is always from the heart and so very powerful with strong images and emotion layered throughout. Thank you.
You are right Linda...it's a hard word to carry..thank you..
Hearts are always warm Annell..on one side anyway..they pump the sun up from the ground..keep us going if not warm..thank you..
Thank you for the gentle return OldEgg..
Thank you Kim..you can never find what you never had..perhaps..but you can grub out love..if you know how..
Thank you too Laurie..
Jae
I feel sorry for the little girl who got lured to abuse herself and the downward trend she suffers!! She seems to realize her mistakes and feels a hopelessness!! You have captured the problem, the turmoil in the mind, and her fears very well!!
"Nobody touches us.
We reach out in screams and bangs
We throw out edges hoping for a gentle return." arouses strong feelings!!
Such powerful writing, Jae Rose. Wow. From the heart, like other poems of yours I have read. Your writing is truly amazing, never stop! There is very deep awareness and understanding in your work.
To be touched we have to reach out and ask. Sometimes with people who scream and bang it scares people who want to help but, see only rejection or maybe fits of rage and temper. Fear is such a monster because it comes in many guises yet, always announces its way in anger.
You live in such a tormented world as a prisoner and yet, you are also the keeper of the keys with which to set yourself free.
So awful to not have anyone hug us when we need one, or, a shoulder to weep on and just let go. Yet, there is always such a longing in your writing that you want to set yourself free and, you know deep within, it is only you who can do this. If they won't hug you because your floor scream and bang, then don't be like them. Make the first move to let someone know you crave a gentle hug, a little compassion.
But, the rose will sleep through winter preparing herself for new, strong growth come the spring.
(((Gentle Hugs Jae)))
that is sad people need to be hugged children most of all need to be nurtured. hugs for you
"The little girl found the white flower too"
Jae, this reminds me of Emily Dickinson:
"I'm nobody.
Are you nobody, too?
Then there's a pair of us"
There's strength in numbers if you know where to look.
Find Peace, my friend.
I wish this little girl back in her childhood years, if only in spirit, and wish to give that little girl the hug she needed and wanted. I want to visit her, give her water and love to quench her thirsts, and to know that even though the cold will be etched on her forever, she will be able to be warmwarmwarm. Blessings.
It's painful to think of a place where one can't receive gentleness. One might not always want it, but it should always be within reach.
At least there is this virtual world. Our true talents are appreciated here.
You make me want to hug you. Yeah, thorns and all.
Thank you so much to all of you..I feel the gentle hugs..the softness..the caring in your comments..I appreciate each and every one..Jae
" we throw out edges hoping for a gentle return"
perceptive and authentic. the forgotten ones,
the outsiders depending on the love a soft
petal from a flower just met/held.
this poem of yours is so insightful. echoes
the exact opposite of "I always depend on the
kindness of strangers."
the ones ignore are the people who need
the most.
amazing prose.
this sounds down and tired. I hope that it is a fleeting feeling and that strength comes. Even roses grow more beautiful after they are pruned. Sending all the hugs and positive love and gentleness possible via this silly internet.
I feel the pain and the reality... good writing... truly touch my senses... keep going...
how is it that life can be so fierce and also so tender.
sometimes the internet makes us so close and yet so very far. it is hard not to be able to visit.
smells everywhere can be pesky. my room smells of dog farts because someone has a contented tummy.
i guess at least these smells are signs of life.
my sister is moving house and i have tried to plant pieces of plants from her old garden to try and save them for when she has her own place again. this blog is your place. i think we are all holding small pieces of plants in pots for you.
i am doing some work experience at a uni. there is a courtyard on the way to the library with a huge gum tree and a white rose. i park in the far car park so i can say hello to them. my rose is brown now too it does not smell as sweet. there is a ceramic mask face on the trunk of the tree. on friday i was walking past and a little girl and her brother were looking at it. the little girl asked if it could speak. i wonder what plants would say if they could speak.
i also read the poetry at http://chromapoesy.com/ and she writes of myths and philosophy and i find it interesting to learn new words through her poetry. perhaps there is some distraction or otherworldiness in that for you too.
what a strange journey this life is. pratchett writes of dischord in his communities on diskworld. he talks about 'rough music' when people are angry.
the banging and shouting sounds like rough music to me. perhaps not your favourite colour of sound but it is a part of the spectrum in all of us. even children bang and shout. often children band and shout! the girls next door count to 3 and then scream all together. it is a game for them.
the nice things are not all on the outside.
the tricky things are not all on the inside. =)
thinking of you jae =)
j
Thank you..for your caring comments..and for making me laugh and smile with your kindness and support..apologies I have not had chance to read your posts..I appreciate you all dropping by..Jae
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