I hammer the boots
They were meant to keep my feet dry
But they just hurt
Everything just hurts
They have been fixing the wall for three weeks
It rests in pieces
Around their feet
They tap and hammer
Tap and hammer
The hammer
My hammer
Leaves splashes of hurt
On the boots
Like rain drops
A lot of grey clouds up there
Somebody says
I can’t see them
They are the words
I gather
Out of windows
Behind doors
Stolen by chance
Gathered like bruises
On brown leather
It is too much now
But not enough
The vanilla does not draw me in
Entice me
I settle under the arch with him
As much as either of us can settle
It’s ok ok ok
He has his bottle I have my bruises
This is how it will be always be
We know
That it will never end
Or begin
It is a bitter taste to savour
secondminutehourdaymonthyeardecadedecadedecade
I stuff the boots softly
With the paper
Stopped on the page
I stopped
Maybe they will become gentle
Maybe they will.
People hammering for three weeks would give me a headache.
ReplyDeleteSo true that some things will never end....or begin. But....at least they ARE, and that IS something.
Take care!
I love the lines,
ReplyDelete"Behind doors
Stolen by chance
Gathered like bruises
On Brown leather"
JaeJaeJae:
ReplyDeleteYou keep getting better and better.
We take the words from wherever we find them. We have to. Great poem, Jae.
ReplyDeleteThe message? Some things never change, perhaps were never meant to change?
ReplyDeleteInteresting to consider that acquiescence and acceptance might be more difficult to achieve than making the change. \
I wonder aloud, here.
Love your poetry always ..
ReplyDeletesuch interesting perception of images around us ..
this had a lovely end :)
someday the boots will be more comfortable and the past won't hurt you.
ReplyDeleteThank you kindly Mary..happy Wednesday back..
ReplyDeleteThank you Chris..
Thankyouthankyou Christopher..not at the right things maybe..better that is..
Thank you Nico..needs must..
Thank you for wondering at all..thank you Kim..
Thanks Nimue..lovely endings are :) glad you found it so..
Thank you Sheilagh..they would be perfect for Canadian winter..the snow would soften them up ;)
This took my mind in several directions; all of them good :-)
ReplyDeleteThank you kindly Ben..
ReplyDeleteA hammering poem ... loved it :-)
ReplyDeleteThree weeks of endless hammering would drive me nuts. The leather does bruise, doesn't it.
ReplyDeleteI wonder if we ever allow life to stop hurting us. Under the arch with the man and his bottle is a very stark, vivid, sad image.
I've walked in shoes that had holes in the soles and put flat paper in them to cover the holes.
Maybe in time, everything softens, mellows, Jae.
Your writing is stunning, as always.
Thank you green speck.. :)
ReplyDeleteThank you daydreamer..I hope softness comes..and I hope you have comfortable shoes..no holes..now too..
I feel for anyone who has to listen to someone else hammer, even though I've been doing a lot of it myself in the last year.
ReplyDeleteJ. your poem has assaulted my senses. I can smell the dust/ the feelings disturbed by this relentless hammer. I can hear
ReplyDeletethe beat [down] of the soul by
this hammer. I can taste the
fear, and realize how vanilla
is to weak to save and not even
desired. And I can touch the words like clouds - just waiting.
Your mind is is tuned into every
thing each nuance of life, the
good and the awful.
There is so much in this stunning piece. I loved your use of the word decade which as it is repeated I began to read as decayed. I suppose the sadness is in the realization that the habit doesn't help anymore but there is nothing else. Whatever you do don't stop...writing.
ReplyDeleteThey are the words
ReplyDeleteI gather
Out of windows
Behind doors
Stolen by chance
Gathered like bruises
On brown leather
... beautiful, Jae.
This is how it will always be
ReplyDeleteWe know it will never end
or begin
This struck a chord with me.
For my part it is definitely going to end...
Rallentanda
Life itself can be harsh and full of hammering. It can be hard on a gentle soul, since there are no escapes, only illusions that come back to bite.
ReplyDeleteThank you Alice..maybe it depends on the spirit of the hammering..hope you built something good..
ReplyDeleteThank you very much Shauna..if only it came with an off switch..
Thank you OldEgg..yes decayed is the word..will all churn something out..no fear..thank you..
Thank you very much Laurie..
Thank you Rallentanda..wishing you positive endings..
Thank you Ann..bites which clamp down like ferrets..
Yes, somtimes the words seem to be growing in fields, waiting to be gathered...or come to us floating on air without context. We have to get them and put them into their proper place, or keep them safe until needed.
ReplyDeleteSpanish boots, of Spanish leather... words from a song... it is the gift that the singer is longing for. I wish she could see what you did with them! I like this fine piece!
About the hammering... enough to drive you "crazy."
ReplyDeleteTalk about the words floating in air, yesterday, I heard (perhaps from the TV) "...crazy is not a term we use anymore...after a pause, I don't know why, it says it all."
These words made me laugh, perhaps to close to the truth. I hope you will also smile, or maybe a little chuckle.
"This is how it will always be...it is a bitter taste to savour." these words hit me the most today; maybe it says something of my mood. But quite a beautiful write straight through.
ReplyDeletebreaking in new boots - hopefully beating them softer. Some things stay the same, some ever changing and they often pinch our toes (and hearts) and sometimes those walls are just a head-ache filled noisy mess (just ask humpty dumpty) - Stuck in word clouds under an arch, I hope for gentleness (and peace and quiet) for you, and sun to burn clouds away and bring warmth.
ReplyDeleteThank you all..sorry for delayed reply..I am stalled like stiff boots x
ReplyDelete