I’d always believed her
when she told me
my eyes are brown;
tried not to believe them
when they whispered
my mother was a witch –
though I choked on the meal
she cooked that night.
Yet I’d never believed
what you said
about being
nowhere without me,
until, sitting here now,
there’s that empty space
beside me
which lies.
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Reviews of "Soft Lips, Hard Shoulder"
Reviewed by Vesna Perkovic (Reader)
Reviewed on October 14, 2008
I hear ya Kate..lost my mom last year..she lived and died in Australia..and I was so far away..in Croatia..
Brilliant work..you are such a grand writer and poet..
Blessings,
Nice work Karen...even within truth there is a loss of trust...one realizes this when loss is laid plain before the eyes...your work always instills the imagination into rhythm...to seek that message from within another...
Oh, that connection we take for granted, or just do not belive the reality of a present relationship...living in the moment, yet drowing privately in shadowed disbelief....like wow...this is too good to be true, how could this be happening to me.......
and yet
when there is a suspension in that bond... be it brief or perm.....the chasm is bottomless......and then you know what ya gotzzz....:)
all of life can be like that....so this poem tells me to live in the moment.....and inhale it...with every breath of being and every fiber of love in your soul.......
pax A
Trust is something we learn at a very young age, trying to find meaning even in the craziest things. It takes great strength, but we are never done. The apparent simplicity of this poem hides the complexity of dealing with those who distort reality.
Antecedents...that is what this poem boiled down to for me...it is shrouded in mystery because we don't really know who her, she, them, they is/are...and all about the past.
But underneath that mystery lies a little bit of truth in all of us...that desire to believe, but not being sure if we should, and that discouragement that comes from some realizations.
I have to echo what Charlie said about the title. I loved that the poem had such an unexpected twist to it from what I thought the title meant.
This is a gutsy write from you, Kate. That last stanza is haunting in its twisted reasoning, and all the more haunting because its so true. It's baffling. "I'll always be with you!" and your young mind says, "what a crock!" And then they're gone, and that's when you realize they were right after all... be it by death, rejection, weird directions-- it's all twisted, but spot-on, and perfectly expressed.
I love the separation of the last line... it adds impact to the poem. "Lies" is such a powerful word anyways, and set aside like that, it kicks hard at the reader's gut, and yet it's quiet and penetrating. The title too is good... "soft lips" one thinks of lovers, but on reading the poem, you find there are all kinds of soft lips, speaking niceties or flippant cruelties. And "hard shoulders", one thinks of lovers again-- of friends-- of shoulders that shelter-- shoulders to cry on-- shoulders that somehow ought to have been less hard and more cushioning, and yet stalwart still--protecting...
All through this poem, we feel the absense of soft shoulders, and hear the harsh brutality of hard-lined lips speaking truths, masquerading as lies. Note to author: I don't mean your mother was a witch-- I didn't know her!--just that I can humorously see your young-mind cogs whirling as you choke down that meal, wondering, but refusing to acknowledge you believe it (okay, that was confusing. Excuse me, off on a tangent again...)
--highly publishable, Kate. You're brilliant as ever. So glad you're back and posting.
Do we choose to believe what we want to believe?,,or do we lie to ourselves,,,, very interesting poem,, and gives one much to ponder. Well done Kate!
Christine
Belief and truth come only when the young girl becomes the mother. Until then, just loving her takes care of the faith needed. Your pen drips with both love and faith in two strong attributes of "Mum.." This is a realistic and venturesome work... and a good one, indeed. - Bill
Kate, you convey the sense of loss and being without with gentle rhythm and cadence that make the hard reality poignant. This simple telling has power.
John
A little different styling for you Sweet Kate but I like it and the blunt honesty that comes through on the subject's thought process. The entry of family as compared to a lover is noted and I could feel the pain of rejection as a flash back to the current situation. Well done.
hugs
Fee
Undone by the power of your pen, Kate, a heaviness in your lines today. Well done! Know what you mean about words: they can be far more deadly than weaponry.
As I read this, my first thought was that she'd died and left you alone. Then, I re-read it, and am sitting her scratching my head. Why do we believe some of what it told us and choose to discard other comments? Perhaps, we can more easily believe what we can see versus trusting others to be there for us. In the end, only we have the ability to choose to our 'truths.'
it's a heavy burden when we can't get out from under the dominance of a powerful spirit! Use your overcoming power Kate,and tell it to begone! Excellent,intense, moving poem...
multi~layered tiers of tries and lies _ beneath this re-surfaced gasp () to breath the essentials of surviving the truth .~. )touched( evol Ted
Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader)
Reviewed on September 22, 2008
Heavy stuff you are giving the troops today, Kate . . . And hello, by the way, it has been a while . . . This is a fantastic poem because it covers just about everything in the world in sixteen cryptic lines . . . It is all about believing and all about truth and lies . . . We live our lives listening to others . . . Others listen to us . . . Communication is the key to human misery, or rather, miscommication . . . I do not believe I have ever read such a condensed version of the human experience before . . . It could have ONLY come from you, Kate . . .
A Collection of Voices from Around the World is more than just a poetry compilation. It is a partnership of poets from around the globe brought together by an internet poetry forum. That forum, poetrypages.com, has been the home of many a fine poet s
WHISPERS OF THE HEART is artist and author J. Allen Wilson's second book of poetry.It can be autographed and shipped within 48 hours of order. NO LONGER AVAILABLE.
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Brilliant work..you are such a grand writer and poet..
Blessings,
Vesna :)
Much love to you dear Kate!!
Regis
nice...
Art Sun...
and yet
when there is a suspension in that bond... be it brief or perm.....the chasm is bottomless......and then you know what ya gotzzz....:)
all of life can be like that....so this poem tells me to live in the moment.....and inhale it...with every breath of being and every fiber of love in your soul.......
pax A
And if the truth be told it ain't really a loss at all when it all comes down to it.
Your mother is just in the other room..:)
Hang Tough dear one !
I am with you on this one.
Peter
Axilea
But underneath that mystery lies a little bit of truth in all of us...that desire to believe, but not being sure if we should, and that discouragement that comes from some realizations.
I have to echo what Charlie said about the title. I loved that the poem had such an unexpected twist to it from what I thought the title meant.
Superb!
Cryssa :~)
Carole~
I love the separation of the last line... it adds impact to the poem. "Lies" is such a powerful word anyways, and set aside like that, it kicks hard at the reader's gut, and yet it's quiet and penetrating. The title too is good... "soft lips" one thinks of lovers, but on reading the poem, you find there are all kinds of soft lips, speaking niceties or flippant cruelties. And "hard shoulders", one thinks of lovers again-- of friends-- of shoulders that shelter-- shoulders to cry on-- shoulders that somehow ought to have been less hard and more cushioning, and yet stalwart still--protecting...
All through this poem, we feel the absense of soft shoulders, and hear the harsh brutality of hard-lined lips speaking truths, masquerading as lies. Note to author: I don't mean your mother was a witch-- I didn't know her!--just that I can humorously see your young-mind cogs whirling as you choke down that meal, wondering, but refusing to acknowledge you believe it (okay, that was confusing. Excuse me, off on a tangent again...)
--highly publishable, Kate. You're brilliant as ever. So glad you're back and posting.
--Charlie
Newfie Hugs are on the way, Rose
Christine
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in America, Karen Lynn in Texas. :(
John
hugs
Fee
(((HUGS))) and love, karla.
God bless you. Kathy
shalom,
ET