Wednesday, 21 March 2012

Her Voice

The baby sock rests in the car park
Its stripes worn down
Away
By the gravel
Gravel which grazes and grates
rips and tears
Forcing its way through skin as delicate as a plum
A thin little layer to keep the world from biting down deeper
I go home
I feel uneasy
Thinking
Locked inside these stories
Nurturing my desire
tojumptocrosstoholdoutahandtothetrucktodowhateverwhatever
itdoesntmatterwhatever
At home I know what to do
I pin my hair back so I can see
Look in the mirror
Take a picture
(no one else will)
Years marked out in the changes
A trip here a fall there
It all grinds you down in the gravel
Like an amateur
But there is something I find
When she sings
I smile
Almost cry
There is the fire held diligently inside
She shouts it out for me
Picks the baby up dusts off the stones and breathes
She says don’t follow me close
And I am happy tripping and skipping in her wake
Feet like rainbows stories like rain
Just behind her I will be
Catching the tinder flames
Wrapping myself up in her voice.
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32 comments:

  1. Dandelion Girl21 March 2012 at 06:05

    beautiful tender images, love "Feet like rainbows stories like rain" very evocative.

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  2. Janet Aldrich21 March 2012 at 07:37

    That is GORGEOUS, Jae. So sweet.

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  3. Ellecee21 March 2012 at 08:43

    A lovely poignant poem. Some thoughts are hard to contemplate or erase.

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  4. Jae Rose21 March 2012 at 08:46

    Thank you Dandelion Girl and Janet..

    Jae

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  5. Jae Rose21 March 2012 at 08:46

    That's true Ellecee..thank you

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  6. Sheilagh Lee21 March 2012 at 09:00

    such a tender poem I Love the lines
    "Feet like rainbows stories like rain
    Just behind her I will be
    Catching the tinder flames
    Wrapping myself up in her voice.'
    such beauty and tenderness in those lines.

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  7. Unknown21 March 2012 at 09:01

    Your submission for three word wednesday? :)

    Wonderful poetry Jae.

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  8. Jae Rose21 March 2012 at 09:10

    Thank you Sheilagh..we crossed comments I think!

    Thanks Marita..

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  9. Cgull21 March 2012 at 09:27

    Are you by any chance Welsh? because I have seen such long words like you wrote "tojumptocrosstoholdoutahandtothetrucktodowhateverwhatever
    itdoesntmatterwhatever". :-)

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  10. Laurie Kolp21 March 2012 at 09:43

    What I love about your poetry, Jae, is that it is so real... this really stands out to me "Locked inside these stories"...

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  11. Daydreamertoo21 March 2012 at 09:52

    Even though your life is hard, you still cannot help but show that tiny bit of hope you hold. It shows in your passion, your fire, and your enjoyment of hearing the child's voice.
    Another purely lovely write from you Jae.

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  12. Ramesh Sood21 March 2012 at 10:34

    How do you create such intense posts..Jae..this is lovely.. every line..Thank you..

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  13. Unknown21 March 2012 at 10:54

    A true artist, Jae, you notice details in an ordinary day - an abandoned sock meant for a baby - and you create a world and a work with each detail. 'Her Voice' covers a range of emotions, builds like an ocean wave, crashes then carries us out again. I followed you, following her... pleased that your safe distance would prohibit the tinder flames singing you.

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  14. Angel21 March 2012 at 12:57

    Lovely piece. Too me, it sounds as if a mother is learning to let her child grow up a little, even though it's hard.

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  15. Old Egg21 March 2012 at 14:11

    Once again a stunningly beautiful piece. And what a glowing tribute to the one you love so much as I am sure she loves you.

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  16. Alice Audrey21 March 2012 at 14:50

    Sweet and lyrical. I love the way you put words together.

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  17. Andy Sewina21 March 2012 at 16:27

    Lovely stuff!
    and that amazing thingy - tojumptocrosstoholdoutahandtothetrucktodowhateverwhatever
    itdoesntmatterwhatever, phew!!

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  18. Nara Malone21 March 2012 at 17:52

    I love the way you bring us in with that closeup of the sock and the run together words that are so much like thoghts coming too fast.

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  19. Mary21 March 2012 at 18:43

    Jae, you take experiences and show every small detail. You are a remarkable observer, which is one thing I really treasure about your words!

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  20. rallentanda21 March 2012 at 20:15

    I worry about you skipping in her wake. If she halts suddenly you'll crash into her.Think of the hair..the hours of teasing and lacquering that beehive mound coming asunder in a collision:)

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  21. Jae Rose22 March 2012 at 10:59

    No, not Welsh Chris!

    Thank you Laurie..something has to be real..

    Thank you for another purely lovely comment too Daydreamer..

    Thank you very much Ramesh..

    Thanks Kim..always good to have a foot or two between the sparks..

    Thank you for your take Angel..

    Thank you OldEgg...there are a couple 'hers'..but you're absolutely right..

    Thank you Alice..I love the way you put (story) houses together..

    A-ha the thingy! Thanks Andy..

    They are rather speedy..thanks Nara..

    Thanks Mary..I am always glad you see something too...

    Good point Rallentanda..I shall take heed..the big hair is largely a result of neglect not over styling..heat does make it rather puffy though ;)

    Jae

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  22. Ben Ditty22 March 2012 at 16:08

    Have you published any books? :-)

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  23. Lilibeth23 March 2012 at 05:29

    Ah what a tender trail you followed with that one baby sock...exquisite.

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  24. annell423 March 2012 at 08:54

    Beautifully done, deep as the ocean, still that little pink coat. You are beautiful!

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  25. Jae Rose23 March 2012 at 11:04

    No Ben..unfortunately not..not even reached the side of a cereal packet..thanks for stopping by again..always good to see you..

    Thank you very much Lilibeth...

    Thank you Annell..underneath the grisly facade maybe! Thank you..

    Jae

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  26. Di Eats the Elephant23 March 2012 at 12:16

    Beautiful. Love the impact of this line: "It all grinds you down in the gravel" plus the lines with no breaks between words. Lovely lovely poem.

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  27. Dee Martin23 March 2012 at 16:33

    "There is the fire held diligently inside" oh my...
    there are other lines - the "feet like rainbows stories like rain" line is gold but this just lit up...I may have to use it as a prompt. Catching the tinder flames...so much imagery in this.

    And then this almost hidden bit "tojumptocrosstoholdoutahandtothetrucktodowhateverwhatever" Hold the hand out to the stop truck? Super Jae, I hope? I love that you found something in the singing...

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  28. Jae Rose24 March 2012 at 04:43

    Thank you Di..good to see you..

    Thanks Dee..there was a bit of colour and sound this week..I am glad you saw..and the hidden bit too.. :)

    Jae

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  29. Belva Rae Staples24 March 2012 at 12:19

    Another great piece!

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  30. Jae Rose25 March 2012 at 01:14

    Thank you Belva..

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  31. Anonymous25 March 2012 at 06:10

    Dear Rose: A lovely poem about the
    scrapes and tears of life and how
    these inform us and may be counted
    all joy.

    Reminds me how I felt when looking
    at a baby picture of myself recently - how the desire to honor the child in me really bloomed.

    Thank you for the journey,.

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  32. Jae Rose25 March 2012 at 08:21

    I am glad you came along Paige..thank you..

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