Homesick for unopened boxes packed in a rush
before the next storm would surely come
Covering roads leading out, preferably, permanently south
It’s been cold here too long
Like their hair in old pictures
I didn’t mind the recurring memory of him
pushing her head through the wall until hearing confirmation
that it hadn’t been imagined
I don’t mind it
Still
She keeps asking what’s the trouble while I stare blankly at the rug searching for the words to explain how it feels to lose something you’re just beginning to find
Which is enlightenment and the impermanence of everything you never got
Which is everything you never needed
Which is enlightenment
Why do we bother in the first place?
I sat in existential silence
Poking at the intentional holes in my shirt
Polished grommets indicating these circular gaps are there on purpose, the ribbons woven, tied and seal it
There are no ribbons filling the empty places along human timelines
Shore
They are naked, rough, unfixable, shut
Like the unopened boxes,
Unlived life molding in some wet basement of frustrated possibilities
Of want to, yet to be
Infested with potato bugs
and the dust of inefficacy
Not for want of things
the retrieval of time or the burden of memories that cannot be changed
But the presence of peace and good distilled in a charming recipe
A cropped image that cuts out sea debris
So all that remains are shells of preferences for patience, prudence and alternative perspectives
stuffed with love
~
In honor of Quahog Week. Glad for the organic prompt since all this stuff was stuck in there. Since finding out about my husband’s kidney disease (treatable but chronic-we’re fighting back with kale, prayer and meditation) been feeling a mix of tearful gratitude and wonder what. I feel like crying and not feeling. I feel like staying home and traveling. I feel like joining a construction crew and making every Infinite repair along the cosmic punchline to permanently heal the world and restore every wholeness. I told my friend on Monday I feel like delivering a flying round house kick hard and mean, square into the heads of Ignorance and Want. I also feel like adopting a puppy and giving everyone a hug. All those feelings but mostly I’m my same chill self carrying on with living in spite of life, just like you. Also, stuffies aka quahogs stuffed with breadcrumbs and butter, are a revelation. xo
May the disease leave your husband. Best wishes to both of you.
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Many thanks Frank ππΌ
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Hopefully the prayer, meditation and diet work to improve the kidney disease – may I suggest aloe vera to help cleanse them? Peace and blessings!
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Thanks for your kind words and suggestions. I’ll tell him about the aloe vera.
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I loved how you have written this beautiful post around the word ‘Pry’. the image was also very apt in my opinion. Great job!
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Thank you! I love playing with metaphors π
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There’s something about leaving for warmer climates / Florida about this! Is it in part about that experience?
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Hi Sophie. Sorry I missed this! The poem was inspired by Naragassansett Bay on the north east coast but just about any ocean will do π The longing for warmth lives in me always.
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