Sunday, June 14, 2009

Pandora's Sewing Box





Pandora’s Sewing Box

I can’t name the reason,
or the shame that rides behind
my sad eyes or the sullen fact
that beneath good, strong white thread
and equally as worthy black cord,
hidden within and without all the needles,
the thimbles, and a hay-stacked cushion of pins,
lies what seems like such ancient lost history,
so you must understand, then, my surprise
at its still-born voice beyond these years of reason,
this notion of what we had created up and out of us,
this thing lying bold face among the fluff
of quilt squares and denim saved for patching dungarees,
this nothing-more-than-a-piece-of-cardboard test stripping,
its thin pink and blue lines, side by side, barely breathing,
yet intent on announcing the delivery of a neverland arrival,
the tell-tale screeching nature of this end in miscarriage,
the absolute wicked injustice that we couldn’t even get that right,
screams for a a way out of my closed throat, as I clap my hands
in an effort to produce a thunder loud enough to mute the heartbeat,
dulling, dimming and dumbing down the residual pain and disbelief
over retained feelings hidden far deep beyond the labor of loss,
freaked at the sight, rummaging in an old box for the strong fiber
I think I can take back into a well-lit room to begin again anew.

Goofy ass poetry note:
I don't always understand, or even pretend to know, the how's and why's behind a poem's beginning rise to it's bittersweet ending.

However, in reformatting this piece to fit Blogger, I picked a too-large a font size which left the last word of every line hanging alone on a new
LINE!!!!

Right before, I did the "select all" and changed the font, I scanned down each of these last words, orphaned on their own line, and they read in this particular order:

reason
behind
fact
thread
cord
needles
pins
history
surprise
reason
us
fluff
dungarees
stripping
breathing
arrival
miscarriage
right
hands
disbelief
loss
fiber
anew!

Oh my aching poetry!!!!! us ... fluff!

Important Image Note:
Giclee print "Pandora" by John William Waterhouse (1949-1917)

1 comment:

detwings9 said...

Wow! This is awesome. I can just imagine the fogotten souvenir being the trigger to unsuppress a truckload of memories. Amazing coincidence and observation of the final words; it's almost like an entirely separate poem.

Thanks,