November Project: Day 6

[calissa]

As I mentioned yesterday, I have been struggling to learn to write poems again. So I'm a little tender about sharing this, but I wanted to anyway--partly because I wouldn't mind hearing some thoughts on it (and whether those last two parts need more of a bridge) and partly as a way of reciprocating to the tender, vulnerable poems I've been reading in my flist of late.

Tired of reaching for
words that remain dammed,
I scrub away the soap scum
in the shower with chapped hands,
wondering when I became so crusted over with
“can you pick up some milk?”
“you never put your washing away”
and “are you going to be home for dinner?”
that I have forgotten how to play,
to pause,
to love.

Maybe I’m too worn with scrubbing mold
to learn to be a baby again.
And who wants to hear about a love that’s old
and careless enough to have lost its tenderness?

And then he sees me
standing half in the shower--
scrubbing brush in one hand,
pen in the other--
scribbling down some notes.
He smiles.
“Inspiration strikes at any time, eh?”
And offers up his lips.

Comments

[raze]

Oof. I can so relate to this. Effective poem. I see what you mean about possibly needing more of a bridge, but at the same time, I think it fits because of the line 'inspiration strikes at any time.' Nicely done.

[calissa]

Thank you. I'm glad you liked it. It was the first in a very long time.

[lynnoconnacht]

Ooooooh, I like it. ^-^

I agree with raze. I think it fits the way it is because of that one line. The way you have it now structurally echoes it (for me), so it works really well that way.

Thank you for sharing this! It's a lovely piece. <3

[calissa]

*hugs* Thank you!

Catching up on some reading?

[lynnoconnacht]

*hugs back* Thank you for sharing it. <3

A bit. ^-^ I'm glad I finally read this. It's a lovely piece.