She carries a bag
Fill me with love
It is see through
Full of junk
Other people’s mistakes
Unwanted
Unknown
She looks happy
With her bounty
I crawl and scratch inside my clothes
She keeps me busy
For a second
Only ever a second
Then the words come again
Fill me up
Not a bounty
Black
Heavy
Sore
I try to sit
To lie
But I cannot find comfort
Maybe I keep it away
Comfort
As if when I find it
I will know what is missing
What has been missing
What is lost
I beg on the pale wooden chair
For the green piece of paper
For the seven lines of ink that makes it stop
For a second
Only ever a second
I get it
Hold it in my hands
I am very good at asking
It is an empty bounty
Not real
Not one that will fill me with love
i try to say i try to say
But the words disappear
Blown off in an empty bag
A laugh
I leave the chair
Thick
Heavy
Take the seven lines of ink
A step
Quietly lock myself
Back inside.
I think love is something we always search for, perhaps always wish for more of. For some people a small bagful is enough. For some people even a large bagful is too little. Some days one's bag might contain only self-love; other days the bag overflows.
ReplyDeleteI have that same bag and it takes a long time before I realize I have to fill myself. I like your look at boundaries inside and out.
ReplyDeleteVery true Mary..I think (self made) holes in the bag are the biggest downfall perhaps too..thank you..
ReplyDeleteThank you Judy..
Those seven lines of ink so easily morph to 8-9-10. Or some day the 7 may possess a heavier font. At some point, one more tilts the scale and the thick, heavy, quiet lock is permanent.
ReplyDeleteOf course, the character knows this just as well as she know the bounty is not real and will never fill with love.
I wonder. What is the key? How does one remove the lock, throw it away and never again seek it's temporary protection? What is the key?
I wonder.
There were a couple of moments, if only for a second, of weight-holding you still. I think that it is okay to crawl back inside and lock yourself in until there is more light.
ReplyDeleteKim asked about the key and I wonder if it is hidden in the line that speaks, 'Maybe I keep it away'?
It's easy to think the other person's bag is full and yours is empty but looks can be deceiving. Maybe hers is full of what she'd rather not have while yours is rich in bounty. It's a funny thing, but we often faily to see or value the riches right in front of us.
ReplyDeleteyou have my mind spinning again
ReplyDeleteI wonder that too Kim..have you ever seen the Fisher King? that film had a huge effect on me..Parry's search for the holy grail..and the relief when he could stop looking..thank you..and for knowing she knows..
ReplyDeleteSometimes it keeps you safe perhaps Archna..others it locks you up..and yes, that would be one key...seems the heaviest keys are in the mind..thank you..
Thank you Ann..it is hard to spot the treasures you have that's for sure..even knowing they are there can be a challenge..
Thank you GS..don't get too dizzy..
Jae
Yeah, it’s only ever fleeting, for sure. Reminds me of wondering about that as a teen and formulating a theory that we all have X amount of issues only re: different things in different degrees, and it was like trying to find the combination to a safe, finding the peace that works for the person, that is! Power of Now to you, Miz Jae :-D
ReplyDeletecomfort, peace, i seek these things, and they fall through my hands like water oftentimes.
ReplyDeleteIt's sad that we are determined to carry a bag full of other people's junk around with us. These words of yours bring to mind that it's time for me to throw it away junk and all. Thanks Jae for sharing your thoughts!
ReplyDeleteThank you Ms Z..I hadn't thought of there being a finite number of human problems..although often think that we all essentially do the same necessary things..with varying degrees of aplomb..or torment..good to see you ;)
ReplyDeleteThank you Ed..it does seem like that at times..when even the plumpest feels like nails..
Thank you for sharing yours too Belva..enjoy the spring clean :)
Jae
Comfort missing, then ultimately lost. Another look at how the lack of love, of nurture, can eat away at the soul. Your poetry... Jae, it's unsettling, but it's authentically YOU. You possess a precious gift; remember that when life starts scratching and throwing shards in your path, OK? Love, Amy
ReplyDeletehttp://sharplittlepencil.com/2012/05/28/military-schooling-the-sunday-whirl/
Thank you Amy..very much...Jae x
ReplyDelete