A Broken Pot’s Lament
By onemorething
- 4100 reads
I have not recovered every cracked shard:
some sheered their splinters of pain
that disappeared only to be invisible
to the naked eye until a sudden shaft
of memory recalled them again,
and released a bead of blood
upon their pricked wounds.
To remind me I am not whole and
I do not display my scars
in any golden repair;
no gilded, careful lacquer
of a flawed love.
I do not wear my damage with pride
or exhibit any art in my imperfect seams.
Image of kintsugi from wikimedia commons.
https://commons.m.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Kintugi.jpg
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Comments
A very well composed poem,
A very well composed poem, onemorething. I really like the way the poem gradually shifts its focus from external to internal damage and ends with an overt comparison. Very enjoyable!
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There's something very lovely
There's something very lovely about this poem about a pot.
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well done
yet another poem across the goal line!
amazing, and the cherry was well deserved!
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I love the natural feeling of
I love the natural feeling of this poem onemorething. There's nothing fancy about it, more a description of this is who I am and I'm beautiful, even with my flaws.
Yes! I found this poem very inspiring.
Jenny.
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This is our Facebook and Twitter Pick of the Day!
Please share/retweet if you enjoyed it as much as I did
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I like this a lot, it's
I like this a lot, it's unique and reminds me a bit of Hans Christian Anderson and the way he sometimes wrote from the perspective of an object. I also like the way you have avoided the cliche of exhibiting pride around damage.
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