Who are you
He asks
Takes a drag of his cigarette
We think of names
Tried on
Used
Abandoned
This is Alice
I stumble
And I
I am not sure who I am
He smokes
We can not move
Perhaps we will wait for him to tell us
Who
We
Are
The hand print stains the wall
The hand print stains my face
Thud
That is who I am
But there is no word for that
No name
We hit the ground
Small footsteps
Fast
Up the hill
To nowhere
We can not breathe
By the time we reach the bench
As if we have swallowed down all his smoke
And we have
We have
We shake our head
I can not change the time
They have set
Twist it up
Like chaos
It will tick tick away
Until I am gone
Until there are no more questions
I can not answer
We shake our head
Even
When he is gone
When you are gone
When I am gone
There will be no name
For who I am
For what I am
The tears drop to my boots
Her tiny fingers brush them away
She kisses my brow
You do not need a name, she whispers
You are you
All that I need
All that I am.
Amazing ... the words leave such a deep impact !!!
ReplyDeleteThank you very much Green Speck..
DeleteWhat a powerful and beautiful piece of writing. Something to weep over as it was so gritty and yet so touching.
ReplyDeleteThank you Old Egg..no need for tears..they are wiped away..
DeleteWhat a beautifully touching finish to your poem. In order to agree with Alice I have to quote old W.S. 'What's in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet.'
ReplyDeleteThank you very much Altonian..i am glad you agree with Alice..and thank you for W.S...very sweet of you..
DeleteYour imagery is so clear. I can see you there, and Alice, too. Alice is right, there is no need for a name, you are you! What a beautiful piece!
ReplyDeleteThank you Annell..Alice can't help but shed some light..thank you.. x
DeleteThis is lovely, Jae. What we call ourselves isn't as important as what's inside.
ReplyDeleteThank you very much Ann..maybe with time the name and insides match..I hope..
DeleteBeautifully written, and quite moving.
ReplyDeleteThank you kindly Berowne
DeleteBeautiful and terrifying... well written Jae x
ReplyDeleteThank you Alice..
DeleteOh, Jae... those last three lines are ideal. Beautiful way co complete this piece.
ReplyDeleteThank you Kim..I think we just crossed Internet paths..which is a nice thought..
DeleteHi Jae... I do think our names are definitely not as important as just WHO we are....but I don't think a person would feel right without a name to identify him/herself. I can't imagine being nameless.
ReplyDeleteHi Mary..you're right being nameless is really scary..I think maybe we inhabit our names..that sometimes they can almost have a life of their own...part of who we are perhaps..thank you..happy Sunday..happy week..
Deletebecoming grounded can hurt, as we learn what we are, beyond the boundaries which our names can become, and how to transcend and make our names our own. Your poem captures this, and the recovery afterward, beautifully
ReplyDeleteThank you very much Abigail..boundary is such an apt word..more bendable than a prison bar..but something that needs to be stretched and re sculpted..worked upon..
Delete"There is no name for that."
ReplyDeleteThat is such an intense line. Very nice.
Thank you M.A.S...
Delete