Let's put our love in the cinnamon box
Where no one else can see She chuckles
Baby lost her head
We would like to think it is
Beaten broken barren inside
But it never shuts up
On and on and on
Never matches the shining decay of my soul
Baby lost half her head
Well put it together silly
Help is beyond me
And not enough
He wrote the bestest book
Full of angels and stars and rainbows
You should always remember he made you
And you made me
Quite a fancy little circle silly
Like birdies in a pie
How nothing can become so intense
Too much
Too little
All and nothing
All at once
Comparing stitches and bows
Not any more Alice
It's us
Me
I can no longer be seen
Where no one else can see
My sweetest baby girl.
I love to find love in the cinnamon box! And I love that nothing too intense all and nothing, all at once!
ReplyDeleteCinnamon boxes are sweet treasures...thank you kindly Annell xo
DeleteAnother powerful piece, Jae. I especially like:
ReplyDeleteThe smell of outside dying
Never matches the shining decay of my soul
Thank you kindly Laurie
DeleteI like the idea of putting love in a cinnamon box, as love should have a sweet scent, I believe. I am never sure what to make of those birds in a pie. I think it would be quite a fright to open a pie and have blackbirds fly out, and even more frightening (as the nursery rhyme goes) to have one peck off the maid's nose. Yikes!
ReplyDeleteYes the birdies in the pie were a flashpoint of darkness...cinnamon though always good! Thank you Mary..peaceful Wednesday to you
Delete'Let's put our love in the cinnamon box
ReplyDeleteWhere no one else can see ' - I like how these lines (almost) frame your poem, Jae. I cannot say I have such a strong relationship with any children's books character but a few are still very present in my memory.
Thank you Gabriella...Alice only came to me when I was 'grown up'..perhaps you were busy having fun in the real world instead..I hope so...
DeleteRabbits are like that. Why worry about not being seen ? Being seen = rotten cabbages being pelted at you. Best be the invisible sugar plum fairy. There is enough in your circle anyway. You have Alice, Birdies, Jesus and Rabbit. More than enough:)
ReplyDeleteTrue enough I have wide circle of imaginary friends but I really should get out more! Thanks Rallentanda ;)
DeleteJae, your poems are always so wonderful, and this one even more so. I love the note of childish sillyness - you have captured childhood's voice exactly....love "let's put our love in the cinnamon box where no one else can see." Wonderful!
ReplyDeleteThank you very much Sherry - perhaps it takes one to know one as the saying goes - em the childish voice... Thank you wonderfully
Deletestay safe and happy if you need to hide in the cinnamon box do it.
ReplyDeleteThank you Sheilagh...there are certainly worse places to hide
DeleteUmm, a box that smells like cinnamon! Though at first it sounds like parents punishing/abusing a child. And she finds a playmate. I like the way you fold in the nursery rhymes and Jesus, under the heaps of laundry with her and Alice where nothing-that great intensity--can not be seen.
ReplyDeletePerhaps that would be the miss mash of surviving I guess - sweetness and laundry piles muddled up and trying to make sense of the world..any world! Thank you Susan
Deleteso alive with flavors and scents and silly girls. Thanks for sharing this sweet moment with us.
ReplyDeleteThank you very much Moonie....I am glad you could join us :)
Delete"I am not beyond help. Help is beyond me" This line really moved me, perhaps because it is so often true. Or perhaps more accurately, the nearest help is not the help we need and we must somehow find the courage to struggle through to the place where our needs can be met.
ReplyDeleteThank you Ann..And what the hardest struggle that is...harder than the original problem you started with which eventually mutates and becomes long forgotten...
DeleteDropped the baby on her head?
ReplyDeleteMultiple times I think (other) Alice..thank you
DeleteI'm pretty sure this would not have been out of place in 'Through the Looking Glass', delectable daftness and has left me unaccountably hungry!
ReplyDeleteThank you loupmojo....we are delicately daft but we can offer you cake and tea!
Deleteyour poetry is always intriguing,,,!
ReplyDeleteThanks very much Sandra
Deleteanother golden childhood! very happy and exciting!!!
ReplyDeleteBut sadly fantasy - thank you James
DeleteWow, that's a powerful statement! I hope you can open that cinnamon box and have a few treats now and then, anyway.
ReplyDeleteWe will try our best...thank you very much Rosemary
DeleteOh, that poignant longing of this beautiful piece Jae. Your poetry whispers secrets and sadness but we laugh because we think we have seen a rabbit scamper across the garden.
ReplyDeleteThank you Old Egg...it works with words but in the real world it leads me down the rabbit hole that's for sur
DeleteCinnamon is so interesting in the way it smells so good and tastes so good when mixed with something else but on its own will choke you up...beautiful painful poem.
ReplyDeleteI hadn't thought of the possibility of neat or mixed cinnamon - thanks for illuminating that Erin...and thank you for your comment too!
DeleteOh, dear, hold on at your cinnamon box. Time will come... Hugs.
ReplyDeleteWe are holding tightly...thank you humbird xo
DeleteWhat a great poem, so full of emotions and dreams.
ReplyDeleteThank you GL...I like that thought!
DeleteLove you J
ReplyDeleteThank you Dee - now you're making me cry...but in a lovely way...thank you
DeleteThis is lovely. And sad. And worrying.
ReplyDeleteThank you J Cosmo...i think you have adequately described my state of mind (though maybe not the lovely bit)
DeleteYeah Right.
Deleteright indeed
DeleteI rode the waves of emotion in this one, J, and felt the gritty sea sand a time or two. And then the tides calm and feel better...
ReplyDeleteEbb and flow....think the grains are gritty at the moment...but grit can exfoliate...I suppose...thank you Kim
Delete