We gave up our dreams to fumble at adulthood;
playing house isn't what it used to be.
Our low bed, littered with the week's routine,
was sulking underneath.
It has tired of the relentless cycle of sheets.
The green ones don't look like spring anymore;
only the one that passed: faded, and old.
And the flannel is no longer warm;
its worn out childish comfort now plain immature.
This trudging of the banal,
this endless march of inconsequence,
our illusion of the grand scheme falters under its gravity.
Only frames of domesticity, of ruffled canine fur,
and the reminder of a smile frozen elsewhere;
it buckles under the promise.
Here is life as I would have given you,
sparkling and easy, and devoid of questions.
Here is life as I would have wanted,
clean of choices, and clairvoyant.
Here is life, hurtling onto the landing
padded with dust, and fragile of bone.
Here, where it wouldn't have mattered, did I declare,
Here, I shall remain, a splinter in its eye,
for visions like these are worthless.
(Originally posted on Feb. 23, 2007)
playing house isn't what it used to be.
Our low bed, littered with the week's routine,
was sulking underneath.
It has tired of the relentless cycle of sheets.
The green ones don't look like spring anymore;
only the one that passed: faded, and old.
And the flannel is no longer warm;
its worn out childish comfort now plain immature.
This trudging of the banal,
this endless march of inconsequence,
our illusion of the grand scheme falters under its gravity.
Only frames of domesticity, of ruffled canine fur,
and the reminder of a smile frozen elsewhere;
it buckles under the promise.
Here is life as I would have given you,
sparkling and easy, and devoid of questions.
Here is life as I would have wanted,
clean of choices, and clairvoyant.
Here is life, hurtling onto the landing
padded with dust, and fragile of bone.
Here, where it wouldn't have mattered, did I declare,
Here, I shall remain, a splinter in its eye,
for visions like these are worthless.
(Originally posted on Feb. 23, 2007)
5 comments:
Ouch! Powerful and bitter; defying and standing tall, but yet so fragile.
I felt a soft person speaking; despite the strong words. Someone who has gathered all their strength to utter these harsh words, while trembling deep inside, afraid that the other person catches their fear and their vulnerability.
Beautiful poem ash… as always.
wise lessons and a strong vision in the most eloquent words. you're a wonderful poet.
Z & M, thank you so much! It's most generous of you...
I like the style, it has a simple eloquent flow with hook words tailing that take you elsewhere. I'm visiting your blog for the first time. The reason I'm commenting on this post (splintered), is because Mirvat sent me this particular link. I wanted to read for myself who her other favorite poet blogger was.
I visit more often, good work.
Thank you, and welcome to my humble blog! I have to thank Mirvat for the referral and the good word. And I'm glad you visited because now I know your blog and will be checking it out to see who Mirvat's other favorite poet blogger is ;)
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