re-written reality, modified to suit the authors, accepted with a smile.
Old letters
Kept -
Plutonium memories
Of differences
Stuffed in a drawer,
Sad reminders
- Of the recipient's respect
For singularities,
- Of love
And patience
And help
Given away
For nothing.
Words written
In anger and frustration
Met with understanding.
Sentences that sentence
For what was once liked,
Betraying fascination
Conveniently turned
Into reproach.
Met with a smile.
Paragraphs of hurt
Woven like webs
That wrap up
One's freedom
In (stero)typical
male projections.
Met with tenderness.
With
Conscious
Careful
Communication
Committed
To changing
Evolving
For those who never cared
To change
A drop
Of their modest precious selves,
So ready to put the blame on Eve.
"Project and blame",
To keep your image clean...
Do so!
But your letters have been kept
For years
By hands that amend
And a heart that forgives.
Those letters
- That helped you
Vent and heal
through ink-lies -
Linked you to eternal childhood.
while readng this poem I simply came out with what we will really miss in the future. Old letters and the smell of such letters. now we just do emails right? and delete, delete, delete. It's bad for our nostalgia and poetry. but this is a good one, cheers S
You throw out the letters so you wouldn't have to throw up. You face others reality and walk away and don't seem to buy into it. Bravo. You keep growing. I love the depth and different levels your poetry hits. Liz
As usual, this is so well-expressed and meaningful, Axilea. There are fine images within these lines. Thank you for sharing this gift. Love and best wishes,
These are writes that have mulched and composted wonderfully, enriching growth and understanding throughout the whole being and personhood. I believe that going over and over certain necessary ground is not maudlin as long as a refining and filtering process is operating, such as you demonstrate wonderfully in this skilled, deft piece of writing. For me, this poem is like running and sifting fine, nutritious sandy soil through fingers on the first warm day of spring: healthy and life-giving. And your "preamble" is part of the whole poetic piece, I find. Like this immensely. A fruitful and precious New Year to you, Axilea. Kate xx
This is a 'breath of stale air'!!! Hope you'll pardon the pun!
Glad you're throwing them out. Trouble is, you'll still wander into the garden of memory from time to time, and find a few of the ancient, toxic trees rooting in your emotions.
Letters are like old poetry written to someone when you were in love with them but when read after the passage of time has healed the scars seem like they were written by another person. Some fool who had no sense and offered heart and life to someone who never desesrved it.
The bitter smell of old letters lingers sharp in the nostrils...a familiar odor. Past memories holding you back? I like Charlie's bonfire idea: would make you warm inside. :) Very uniquely penned; well done.
Axilea,
i like where you went with this and how you got there,often Blame becomes the sole focus,yes we all have personal responibility and maybe regrets part of that is getting away from the blame game,as you ending points out" While I kept growing.
Well,
I am now throwing them".
fine work,live and learn
stan
Reviewed by Branch Isole (Reader)
Reviewed on December 28, 2007
Such an interesting weave of relationship paths. Outstanding.
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Sad, but true.
I love the lines "by hands that amend and a heart that forgives." Forgiveness brings freedom in the end.
Cryssa
Regis
This is a 'breath of stale air'!!! Hope you'll pardon the pun!
Glad you're throwing them out. Trouble is, you'll still wander into the garden of memory from time to time, and find a few of the ancient, toxic trees rooting in your emotions.
Best,
Keith
Be safe,
Karen
Fee
The bitter smell of old letters lingers sharp in the nostrils...a familiar odor. Past memories holding you back? I like Charlie's bonfire idea: would make you warm inside. :) Very uniquely penned; well done.
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
i like where you went with this and how you got there,often Blame becomes the sole focus,yes we all have personal responibility and maybe regrets part of that is getting away from the blame game,as you ending points out" While I kept growing.
Well,
I am now throwing them".
fine work,live and learn
stan
Rejoice in the spirit and freedom of the moment. Peace, Love and Blessings Always, Paul.