burnt, flimsy

Cherry

By a.lesser.thing

Thu, 11 Apr 2013
  • 784 reads
6 comments
 

a dead dove on the window sill.
you love him, and he says something
in a soothing voice, like "please, just
come to bed." your bones are made of wood,
and long ago, you asked him to pull on them.
he made a bird house when he was younger.
where would you both be
if he hadn't?

/ no dove
on the window sill
no boy in your heart,
no body in your soul. someone
once told you that we're all intertwined.
you couldn't imagine how it'd be to be within
a network, a community, a village, a state, a country,
a world, a solar system, a galaxy, all part of the same thing, just smaller.
you are not an untouched star. you are not drifting through space
alone. we're all moving together.

you liked the feeling of wet concrete. you
put your hands in when your dad poured the driveway,
and he said, this is worth something. he took your hand, helped
you spell your name, and called you his princess. back when these
things weren't as hard, and you thought fitting into yourself was
just a matter of years. little did you know, it'd be a lifetime.

/ his lips, pressed against your ear
and hands drifting through continents as
he makes his way to his estate. his territory.
he doesn't think of it as owning you, but you know
he does. he presented you with a cage, and you asked to lay in it.
you are not domesticated. you've just fallen victim
to a lovely torture.

loving someone--you think of it
as a person presenting you their white-knuckled fists,
and asking you to love them regardless. they are aware
of your vulnerability, and you aware of their fists, but you go into it
hoping your body won't be cold by the end of it. you don't speak when
they ask you if you felt any improvement. you simply say, "turn the voltage
up."

Certificate 12
Poem
Unclassified

Comments

Submitted by VeraClark on
Beautiful poetry Jamie. Emotive and lively rhythm. Most of all, I like your juxtaposition between childhood and adulthood.

 

Submitted by littleditty on
Stanza 2. I feel for you here, in as much as we all experience feeling lost soul finding idea of self, self in the world over and again, some more/less lost and found or searching than others, and all in transition, ie flux and change, some more/less etc you know all this! - I'm questioning my understanding on the first 4 lines of this stanza..L4 deliberately does that?! (some people feel more locked out, some more locked in with no way out -so I am thinking about that as a transition thing, or process now,(my angle) - change, flux and flow to and from idea of introvert to idea of extrovert, or internal to external type communication, I'm thinking aloud, know I am using loaded words saying nothing much :) - I mean to say, your clarity/perspective(L4?)on these things, which I am interested in from my own angle, is making me think -so cheers!)

 

Submitted by ItsSteveDave on
This is brilliant, I felt every word - we are all moving together...

Submitted by a.lesser.thing on
I woke up this morning, finished writing this poem and began writing 'fighting,' and needless to say, was in a bad mood. I've been struggling these past few, with the switching of my anti-depressants not working out for the best (and, in all honesty, making me fall back down the hill again), and so I posted these not expecting too much. I checked to see if anything had been added while I was on my way to school, stuck in traffic, and upon finding your (first of all, Stan's, but throughout the day all of you guys'!) comments felt immensely cheered up. It means a great deal to me to just know that I'm putting my writing out there, and actually having others enjoy it. I've been writing my whole life, and while I've always known that I wanted to do it, I've been scared to take it up as more than a hobby. I've been gaining a good deal of courage simply from continuously posting on ABCtales. I know this probably seems redundant, as I say it a lot, but all of your comments mean the world to me, and without you guys, I wouldn't be able to do this. There won't be a single moment where I don't mean it. All in all, thank you so, so much. I am going to do specific replies, too, so I apologize if this ends up being massive! @Stan: The first comment was enough to make me smile, but the second one sent me grinning! I started out my day feeling horrid, as I said, and when I read these, it put me in a fantastic mood. I actually had a pretty good day today. I'm not a perfectionist in the least bit; my homework, lack of organization, and so on go to show that I'm more oriented with the right side of my brain, but at the same time, I remember small details very well. They pop up to me especially when I go to write. The moment when my friend licks her lips, the feeling of my friend's cold hand brushing mine, the smile he makes when I make him laugh and he's been sad all day. Everything seems like a balancing act, and I, more often than not, try to set off the balance while writing with different weights (as you said in your second comment). Something about having to spend the day thinking of them, feeling them pressed upon my shoulders, and then tossing them off while I'm tired (and editing in the morning before posting!). It's a good practice, and at the same time, a huge reliever. To have a great sense of relief and enjoyment from something (and to get others to join in on such!) is an amazing thing, and there isn't a moment when I take it for granted. @VeraClark: Thank you! I like to play with the subject of adulthood and childhood, and often crush them together, because of how often I feel it. Being mature, feeling old and sad, mashed alongside with true age and having to deal with the contrast of it ("you're only fourteen," "you don't have your license yet" "what do you know?" "you're still a child yourself!") can become quite painful at times, so writing about it, letting others into it, etc. is refreshing. @Littleditty: You're always on the spot with giving me feedback, thank you! :) The second stanza is something I struggle with 24/7. I don't feel here, don't feel there, don't feel part of something, anything, wrestle with existence on a daily basis. I hope to find myself, might not, but eventually become a whopping Something. And you're completely correct, the first four lines purposely set off a balance or previous knowledge (i.e., my English teacher called it unreliable narrative). You get a choice on what to believe because of these lines, which is a great thing. As a writer, I try to paint images for you, but I don't want to do that all of the time--sometimes you have to take hold of the brush and paint it yourself. That was what I tried to accomplish in those lines, so hopefully it worked (and you enjoyed it!). Glad I could make you think, and you're exactly right with your thinking. Feeling locked out, and feeling locked in--I go between a mix of the both. Sometimes you read me trying to kick down the boards, and sometimes you hear me setting them up. Very perceptive! Cheers! @ItsSteveDave: I'm glad! The idea that we're all moving together strikes me often; in example, when holding the door open for someone, when a person cuts in front of me while driving, when I hear that something terrible has happened again. Treat others well; we move, and continue to move, but we all end up in the same place, the same end, and most of us never realize: we are all moving together. Thank you for reading (and commenting)! :)

 

Submitted by The Walrus on
Amazing.

Submitted by blighters rock on
Beautiful, concise, whacky and intelligent. What a find you are